TOHNLUTHERLONG 


RI.    Till      (iKK.AT     BAKU!  K     I'AISIh.    AND,    WITH    A     TklMIN 

Dors    Fi.nrKisn.    I\i  \n  WHAT    Hi    HAP  \\'KITTK\. 

(I'AC.F.    JO  I 


FELICE 


BY 

JOHN   LUTHER   LONG 

AUTHOR  OF  "MADAME  BUTTERFLY,"  "THE  WAT 
OF  THE  GODS,"  ETC. 


WITH  FRONTISPIECE  BY 

JAMES   MONTGOMERY   FLAOG 


NEW  YORK 
MOFFAT,  YARD  &   COMPANY 

1908 


Copyright,  1908,  by 
MOFFAT,    YARD    &    COMPANY 

NEW  YORK 


Published,  September,  1908 


Tht  Plimpton  Prut  Norwood  Man.  U.S.A. 


TO  THE  GENTLE  STRANGERS  IN 
OUR  GATES  — WHO  SPEAK  IN 
OTHER  WORDS  AND  UNDERSTAND 
IN  OTHER  WAYS  THAN  OURS — 
THAT  BOTH  WORDS  AND  WAYS 
MAY  BE  MORE  AND  MORE  ONE 


CONTENTS 

PAGE 

I.  ASSAULT  is  THE  SKEER  OF  VIOLENCE  .     .  1 

II.  IT  is  BETTER  TO  STARVE  THAN  STEAL  .     .  6 

III.  ALWAYS  A  LIE  is  UNTRUE 14 

IV.  Is  IT  A  TIME  TO  BE  POLITE  WHEN  THREE  — 

FOUR  —  STARVE 20 

V.   'Tis  LAUGHTER  MAKES  THE  SUN  SHINE, 

'Tis  SORROW  MAKES  IT  RAIN      ...       31 
VI.  SOME  HOARD  VANITY  AS  OTHERS  HOARD 

GOLD 34 

VII.  THE  FOUNTAIN  PEN  is  MIGHTIER  THAN 

TROUBLE 39 

VIII.  THE    SPECIAL   STAMP    is    SWIFTER   THAN 

JUSTICE  —  WHEN  IT  GOES  BACKWARD  .       48 
IX.  THE  EARLY  CHILDREN  KETCH  THE  MAGIS 
TRATE  55 

X.  THE  SOVEREIGN  OF  THE  CITY  ALONE  HAS 
POWER    TO    TURN    AWAY    THE    CHILL 
SHOULDER  OF  THE  GENDARME      ...       60 
XI.  A  NEW  STOVE  COOKS  CLEAN,  EVEN  AS  A 

NEW  BROOM  SWEEPS 66 

XII.  FOR,  TO  STEAL  is  NOT  TO  BE  THIEF  — 

ALWAYS 72 

XIII.  SOME  MISTAKE 76 

XIV.  BUT  THE  TONSORIELLE  OF  THE  GREEN 

MOON  WAS  LOCKED 82 

XV.  THERE  is  NO  JOY  IN  THE  Q.  S 87 

v 


vi  CONTENTS 

PAGE 

XVI.  THE  COMMONWEALTH  vs.  PICCIOLI       .     .       91 
XVII.  THE   STRANGE   WORKING   or   THE   CON 
SCIENCE  OF  THE  COURT 99 

XVUI.  MUST  RYAN  EAT  His  HAT? 108 

XIX.  THE  TRUTH  —  THE  WHOLE  TRUTH  —  AND 

NOTHING  BUT  THE  TRUTH       ....     118 

XX.   RYAN  WON'T  EAT  His  HAT 137 

XXI.  THERE    is    A   LANGUAGE    WHICH    NEEDS 

NEITHER  WRITING  NOR  SPEAKING      .      .     139 
XXII.  THE  OPEN  SESAME  is  MOST  DIVINE.      .     142 

XXIII.  FROM  FAIRY-LAND  TO  THE  LAND  OF  HEART'S 

DESIRE 146 

XXIV.  THERE  is  A  LARGE   BEAST  AND  LITTLE 

BEAST,    YET    NO    ONE    NEED    REMAIN 
BEAST  150 


FELICE 


FELICE 


ASSAULT  IS  THE  SKEER  OF  VIOLENCE 

THE  question  was  whether  any 
thing  should  be  done  for  the  relief 
of  Signore  Piccioli,  who  had  been 
arrested  the  night  before,  and  was 
now  in  detention  at  the  white  palace 
where  the  streets  crossed.  And  it  was 
the  shop  of  the  great  barber,  Signore 
Martinos,  the  Tonsorielle  of  the  Green 
Moon  (that  being  the  color  most  avail 
able  to  the  sign-painter)  which,  you  are 
to  be  informed,  was  the  forum  for  the 
adjustment  of  the  disputes  of  all  the 
world  —  but  most,  of  those  of  his  be 
loved,  and  his  own,  Little  Italy. 

"  Speak,  all,  the  American  langvage," 
begged  the  barber,  -  -  superfluously, 
since  this  was  always  understood  here. 

"For,  signori,"  -he  was  speaking 
from  the  glittering  chair  which  bristled 

with  springs  and  levers,  -    "  had  we  not 

i 


2  FELICE 

been  born  Italians  we  would  desire  to 
have  been  born  Americans.  There 
fore  this  assault  — " 

'There  was  not   assault,"   ventured 
Teti,  the  rash  farmacien. 

Instantly  Martinos  leaped  to  a  shelf 
concealed  like  a  shrine  by  a  silken  cur 
tain,  and  raped  from  it  a  book. 

"'Assault,'"  he  translated,  '"is  the 
skeer  of  violence  without  the  accom 
plishment." 

"Signori,"  he  continued,  "when  a 
mal-efac-tore  rush  madly  in  a  baking- 
shop,  and,  with  great  force,  tear  two 
loave'  away  —  is  not  those  the  assault 
upon  bread  ?  "  Thus  avers  Avvocati  per 
Tutti--this  "Everybody's  Lawyer" 
-  and  he  flaunted  the  great  book  in 
their  faces. 

All  but  the  unhappy  Teti  were  fain 
to  admit  that  he  had  demonstrated  his 
contention. 

"Precisely!  He  has  skeer  the  vio 
lence  without  accomplishment.  Re 
mark,  fellow  citizen  and  Italian  breth 
ren,  it  is  the  skeer  of  the  violence  not 


FELICE  3 

the  perfection  thereof  —  Had  he  un 
happily  accomplished  the  whole  vio 
lence  it  would  be  assault  and  bat 
tering." 

Again  he  was  interrupted.  Rafaelle, 
the  undertaker,  entered. 

"  There  is  no  harm,"  said  the  under 
taker,  misunderstandingly,  "in  a  bit  of 
domestic  drunkenness.  If  the  intoxi 
cation  occur  at  the  fireside  - 

' '  Larceny ! ' '    shrieked    Martinos . 
"Quiet  your  uproar  and  observe  that  I 
spoke   of  larceny.     And   the   skeer  of 
violence." 

"That  is  the  bane  of  a  drunken 
ness,"  said  Pamphilio  Carazin,  the 
proprietor  of  the  marionette  theatre,  a 
still  newer  comer,-  "the  public  dis 
order." 

The  wild  despair  of  Martinos  ex 
pressed  itself  in  a  fixed  and  silent  glare 
at  Carazin. 

''There  is  the  beating  of  the  wive  and 
children  --there  is  the  hunger  and  the 
grief." 

Carazin  was  the  only  one  in  Little 


4  FELICE 

Italy  who  had  in  the  least  Martinos's 
gift  of  oratory.  He  had  once  been 
chosen  to  make  the  Fourth-of-July  ora 
tion.  Martinos  had  promptly  printed 
a  more  fervid  one  in  II  Vesuvio.  And 
now  they  were  scarcely  friends. 

'*We  have  here  establish,"  amplified 
Martinos,  in  his  most  velvety  voice,  and 
in  entire  ignorance  of  any  speech  of 
Carazin,  "in  Italia  Minora,  with  long 
use,  internal  order  and  domestic  tran 
quillity,  and  now  it  is  fracture  in  pieces 
to  the  disgraze.  It  shall  not  be!  Do 
you  hear  me,  signori,  it  shall  not  be! 
He  who  steal  our  bread,  purloin  our 
best  name  away!" 

There  was  applause  at  this,  and  the 
diminished  Carazin  slunk  to  the  rear 
with  a  too  false  pretence  of  indifference. 

"Now,  who  knows  of  his  ancestery  ?" 
demanded  the  triumphant  barber. 

"I  hear  he  was  a  gondolier,"  said 
the  man  whose  trade  was  the  mysteri 
ous  milk-balls. 

"Ah!"  cried  the  barber,  encourag 
ingly- 


FELICE  5 

"And  is  to  the  World's  Fair  to  gon- 
dol  on  lake  like  a  saucers,"  amplified 
Pistolio  Angina,  of  the  Broad  Street 
"white-wings"  cleaning  squad — whose 
English  was  disgraceful. 

"Aha!"  cried  the  barber,  "and  the 
larceny  has  lost  him  his  employmen '  ? 
It  is  just." 

Cesare  Gargantua  answered:  "Li- 
bera  Rosa  Rocco,  she  is  most  wrise,  for 
a  woman;  she  say  it  is  the  lose  employ- 
men'  occasion  the  lar-cen-y.  He  got  to 
larcen  or  starve." 

"Shall  we  then  basely  aid  to  release 
him  from  his  chain?"  demanded  Mar- 
tinos,  irrelevantly.  "Shall  we  not  the 
rather  contend  that  his  chain  remain 
upon  him  and  he  stay  away  forever? 
This  dam  Piccioli  ?  Then  have  we 
always  the  grand  peace,  signori,  it  is 
most  good!  What  you  say?" 

The  sentiment  of  the  elders  was  with 
the  barber,  and  against  the  criminal. 


II 


IT    IS    BETTER    TO    STARVE    THAN    STEAL 

"Now,  then!"  cried  Martinos,  from 
his  splendid  chair,  like  another  Ceesar, 
"where  is  this  Giovanni  Nardi,  the 
baker  who  was  stole  from  ?  Why  is  he 
not  here?  Let  him  be  brought!" 

This  was  a  royal  command.  And, 
almost  instantly,  the  fat  and  good- 
natured  baker  was  before  them,  and 
uncomfortable  under  the  suspicion  of 
having  shirked  a  patriotic  duty.  He 
was  in  a  white  cap  with  a  transparent 
green  visor,  his  apron  was  on,  and  his 
sleeves  were  turned  up  from  his  flour- 
powdered  arms.  He  panted  and  his 
fat  quivered  as  he  spoke. 

"Va!"  he  laughed;  "perhaps  it  is 
true.  But  let  him  keep  the  bread.  I 
make  a  present  to  him.  What?  The 
man  was  starve!  Fame!  Affamato! 
Any  one  could  see  that.  And  do  you 

6 


FELICE  7 

suppose  that  if  I  starve  and  smell  fresh 
bread  I  will  not  steal  ?  Virgin !  I  will 
first  kill.  What?  Has  no  one  smell 
fresh  bread  when  he  was  hungry? 
Then  he  dun'no'.  Well,  once  on  the 
streets  of  Napoli  I  -  -  Virgin !  It  was 
three  days  I  had  not  eaten!  Well? 
What  ?  I  broke  the  window.  I  did  not 
run.  I  only  ate,  ate,  ate,  before  they 
took  me.  Well?  Could  they  take  it 
from  my  belly?  Twenty  days.  So. 
The  baker  was  a  man.  He  come  to  the 
prison.  I  say  I  am  sorry  and  was  hun 
gry.  I  will  make  reparatione  by  work 
ing  for  him.  What  ?  When  my  time  is 
out  he  took  me  in  his  shop.  And  now 
I  am  baker  myself  and  have  shop! 
Virgin !  If  any  one  is  that  hungry  - 
as  I  was  -  -  what  ?  Let  him  come  and 
steal  of  Nardi  the  baker.  He  will  turn 
his  fat  back.  And  so  I  will  say  to  the 
newspaper  —  the  advertise  --  the  eccel- 
lenza  the  judge.  There  I  go  now." 

A  moment's  frightened  silence  greeted 
this  innocent  flouting  of  the  great  man 
in  the  chair. 


8  FELICE 

"Stop!"  said  Martinos,  as  the  baker 
started  away.  'That  is  the  anarchy 
which  occasion  the  killing  of  many 
people.  Stand  still!  You  are  but 
baker  —  panettiere.  You  can  declaim 
the  sentiment  of  the  p'ilosop'er!  Ha! 
It  is  not  your  bread.  It  is  of  the  right 
eous!  Virgin!  You  are  of  the  animal 
call  the  ass!  Stand  still!  You  know 
nothing  but  the  how  it  wras.  You  are 
but  baker  —  panettiere.  Now  tell  me 
the  manner  how  he  stole.  The  ques 
tion  is  but  to  determine  the  skeer  of 
the  violence,  not  what  you  p'iloso- 
p'ize." 

The  baker  did  this  with  subdued  par 
ticularity. 

"  Behold,  I  am  in  my  panella  —  La 
Panella  Italiana  —  il  nome.  I  see  him 
come.  First  he  pause  at  the  delicates 
sen  shop  of  Fritzen,  among  the  sau 
sages.  Then  he  smell  my  new  bread. 
It  is  the  first  batch  of  the  morning.  He 
think  no  more  of  sausages!  Vergiano! 
Who  would  think  of  sausages  when 
there  is  the  smell  of  fresh  bread !  What  ? 


FELICE  9 

The  smell  of  fresh  bread  is  good, 
signori!  Bu-ully." 

He  was  becoming  too  rhetorical. 
Martinos  brought  him  to  earth : 

"Concerning  —  how  —  he  —  steal! 
No  more!" 

"Then  he  come  at  my  window.  His 
face  is  pale.  His  lips  work  as  if  he 
masticated  already  some  of  my  bread. 
Well?  Then  he  smell  —  he  smell,  do 
you  hear  ?  So." 

The  baker  sniffed  ecstatically.  No 
demonstration  could  have  been  more 
perfect. 

"The  how!""  said  Martinos,  inex 
orably. 

"Smell,  and  look  all  about  and  steal 
to  the  door.  Well?  Virgin!  There  is 
a  pile  of  new  loave'  on  the  counter  — 
perhaps  an  hundred.  I  know  he  is 
going  to  steal  —  I  turn  my  back  —  I 
hear  the  door  open  softly  -  - 1  hear  it 
close  —  nothing!  Nobody  is  there!  I 
have  seen  no  one  steal!  I  cannot  take 
the  adjuration  to  that  effec'!  I  laugh! 
He  will  be  free!" 


10  FELICE 

And  he  laughed  then  —  long  and 
happily. 

"Stop!"    commanded    the    outraged 

barber  again  —  and  the  baker  stopped 

-thougli  his  fat  still  laughed.    "When 

again  you  looked  at  your  bread,  were 

there  not  two  loave'  gone?" 

"I  did  not  count - 

'The  truth!"  cried  his  inquisitor. 

"Yes,"  admitted  Nardi.  "And  I 
am  glad." 

"Now,  behole  how  the  rascality  tri 
umph!"  cried  Martinos,  pointing  a 
finger  at  the  baker. 

But  yet  again,  the  recalcitrant  baker 
laughed,  defiantly. 

"Va!  The  loss  is  four  cent.  The 
gain  to  him  is  that  he  not  die  —  life! 
I  laugh!  Aha,  ha,  ha!  And  I  invite 
the  signori  to  steal  from  me  when  they 
starve!  I  will  turn  my  back!  Ta  ta! 
I  am  Nardi,  the  fat  baker." 

But  now  the  barber  was  become 
terrible. 

'Virgin!  Here  is  a  man  steal  by 
stealth  and  skeer  and  the  stole-from 


FELICE  11 

one  laugh!  What  is  the  morale  of  this 
when  one  laugh  at  larceny?  Soon  he 
will  steal  hats,  coats.  Soon  all  will 
steal.  Italia  Minora  will  be  call  but 
the  Rogue  Harbor!  Convegno  di  Mal- 
f attiori !  No,  no  one  will  occasion  him 
self  work.  Why  shall  he?  It  is  good 
to  steal  —  more  good  than  to  toil.  All 
will  steal.  The  hat,  the  coat,  the  pant! 
Then  the  money  from  the  pocket  which 
is  call  pick!  Then  the  knock-down  in 
the  dead  night!  The  deceased  dark 
ness!  Then  the  homicide.  Then  the 
incendiar.  Then  the  fracture  safe  in 
bank.  Well,  you  all  like  those?  You 
desire  that  if  any  one  seek  a  mal-efac- 
tore  he  come  first  at  Italia  Minora? 
The  land  of  the  steal  and  the  home  of 
the  bu-um  ?  Is  it  enough  I  have  de 
claim  ?  Steal,  steal,  steal,  from  one  an 
other!  Sir,  it  is  better  to  starve  than 
steal.  I  will  write  that  upon  a  sheet  of 
papiere  for  the  hat  that  you  may  learn 
it.  I  say  it  is  better  to  starve  than  steal ! 
And  this"  -  Martinos  was  thundering 
now  —  "  is  the  maintainer  of  the  domes- 


12  FELICE 

tic  tranquillity!  Sir,  what  was  the  end 
ing  of  the  unhappy  event?" 

"All  the  time,"  Nardi  went  on 
less  surely,  "is  a  gentarme  watch  the 
stealer,  and  when  he  have  accom 
plish  the  ack  he  clasp  him.  He  cannot 
even  bite  the  bread.  He  is  stagger 
away  with  his  head  down  —  ashanie'. 
But  he  bring  him  in  my  shop  and  as' 
me  do  I  see  him  purloin.  Though  I 
say  no  —  he  oblige  me  that  I  go  at  the 
palace  of  justice  and  other  thing,  where 
the  streets  cross,  and  make  the  adjura 
tion  against  the  stealer.  I  go  thence 
now.  He  also  --the  poliziotto  —  take 
with  him  the  loave'  to  witness." 

"And  there,"  cried  the  savage  barber 
to  the  entire  assembly  once  more,  "is 
the  maintainer  of  the  domestic  tran 
quillity  the  internal  peace  of  our  Italia 
Minora!" 

There  was  a  vague  murmur  of  hos 
tility. 

"Well --what?"  asked  the  baker, 
dizzily  submitting  himself  to  them, 
well  subdued  now. 


FELICE  13 

"Go — go!  Now!  You!  You  only 
baker,  panettiere,  not  p'ilos'p'er,  in 
stantly,"  commanded  Martinos,  "to 
the  palace  of  justice  and  other  things  - 
as  you  designed,  yes,  but  for  different! 
Go,  for  the  more  righteous!  Give  the 
adjuration  that  will  send  to  prison  for 
ever  the  mal-efac-tore  who  stole  from 
you!  Uphole  the  domestic  tranquillity 
the  internal  peace,  and  the  large  name 
of  our  Italia  Minora!  Depart  unto  il 
palazzo  di  giustizzia!  Fast  —  quick!" 


Ill 

ALWAYS    A    LIE    IS   UNTRUE 

THE  baker,  frightened  by  the  hos 
tility  to  his  generosity  with  which  the 
barber  had,  somehow,  charged  the  air, 
yet  still  striving  to  be  defiant,  paltered 
with  his  fate,  and  at  last,  and  in  the  very 
least,  desired  humbly  that  he  might  go 
home  and  change  his  attire  for  such 
as  more  became  the  magnificence  of  his 
mission  to  the  palace  of  justice  and 
other  things.  But  instantly  the  bar 
ber,  more  savage,  the  baker  more  meek, 
detected  and  scotched  this  reptilian 
suggestion. 

"But  did  you  not  this  small  while  ago 
twice  declare  that  now  you  go  thence, 
Now?"  And,  again,  his  tone  was  the 
velvet  one  which  concealed  the  iron. 

So,  the  baker  went  sullenly. 

"Fast!  Quick!  Else  I  deny  you  my 
shop  forever  hereafter!" 

14 


FELICE  15 

It  was  this  which  did  it.  You  must 
know  that  it  would.  To  be  denied  the 
entree  of  the  shop  of  Signor  Martinos 
-  the  Tonsorie  of  the  Green  Moon  — 
by  Signor  Martinos  himself,  was,  per 
haps,  only  a  little  less  terrible  than  to  be 
denied  the  sacraments  by  Father  Isoleri. 

"Always  a  lie  is  untrue!"  said  the 
barber,  when  he  was  done,  looking 
after  him  terribly,  and  out  upon  his 
assembled  neighbors  warningly.  "And 
it  is  better  to  starve  than  steal.  Re 
member!  For,  the  starve  damage  but 
one.  The  steal  damage  much  and 
many." 

And,  presently,  when  the  baker  re 
turned,  in  a  tremendous  perspiration, 
and  his  fat  hanging  like  rags  upon  him, 
he  would  have  slunk  past  the  door  had 
not  his  watchful  inquisitor  flung  it 
wide  and  cried  imperiously  to  where 
he  walked  softly  on  the  other  side: 

"Enter!" 

The  baker  did  so  —  as  if  he  dragged 
a  ball  and  chain. 


16  FELICE 

'Your  appearance  is  of  guilt,"  said 
the  barber,  inspecting  him,  briefly. 
"Did  you  testify  all  those  things  they 
desire  of  you  at  the  palace  of  justice?" 

"Yes." 

"And  what  is  the  punish?" 

'Thirty  day.     It  is  so  suppose." 

The  barber  leaped  at  him,  but  did 
not  touch  him.  Yet  the  threat  of  vio 
lence  was  as  immense  as  that  of  an 
arrested  railway  train. 

'Thirty  day!  That  is  the  premium- 
ize  of  the  crime !  At  the  end  he  will  be 
again  here  to  disturb  the  tranquillity. 
But  thirty  day  of  the  grand  peace. 
Sir,  this  is  of  your  doing!  It  should 
have  been  thirty  year!  Sir,  you  have 
deceive  me.  You  have  not  swear 
strong!  You  have  deceive  all  Italia 
Minora!  Sir,  you  have  pity  him!" 

'Yes!"  and  the  baker  was  defiant 
once  more.  "  So  did  he,  the  most  wor 
shipful,  who  administer  the  justice. 
He,  Signore  Ryan  allege  if  he  could  he 
would  not  punish!  Except  the  law 
demand  him  to  do  so.  \Yhat?  I  am 


FELICE  17 

call  prosecutore.  And  if  I  deny  the 
larceny  there  will  be  not  punishment 
therefor  whatever.  So  say  that  Sig- 
nore  Judge  Ryan.  Well?  This  I  do 
not  but  for  you.  What  ?  I  would  say 
I  present  the  loave'  to  him --but  for 
you.  Therefore  it  is  you  who  imprison 
the  larcener!  You!  What?  I  have 
it  not  on  my  soul.  Dam." 

But  the  barber,  instead  of  being 
appalled  by  his  fell  power  for  evil,  said 
righteously  : 

"It  is  well.  Sir,  if  you  had  not  done 
the  duty  till  you  sweat,  as  I  now  ob 
serve,  no  matter  how  little  accomplish, 
I  would  deny  my  shop  to  you  never 
theless.  Pity!  Ha  ha!  I,  myself,  will 
go  at  the  palace  of  justice  and  other 
thing  and  make  the  adjuration  so  that 
the  mal-efac-tore  is  imprison  for  many 
years.  Pity-- 1  have  not  pity!" 

And  he  would  have  done  so  instantly, 
but  that  he  observed  the  spent  con 
dition  of  the  baker. 

"Signore,"  he  said,  as  he  always  did 
when  he  was  become  gentle,  "mas- 


18  FELICE 

much  as  you  have  attend  to  your  duty, 
no  matter  how  small  accomplish,  I  will 
relieve  you  of  the  sweat  of  labor,  ac 
count  you  are  fat,  with  my  Tonique  di 
Quinino,  free  of  all  payments!" 

Which,  though  the  baker  who  had 
only  a  little  hair,  protested,  he  did,  lead 
ing  him  to  his  chair  with  great  but 
firm  gentleness,  and  working  the  levers 
and  springs  so  that  he  lay  therein  as  on 
a  couch,  and  therein  went  to  sleep. 

And  then  came  the  undertaker  to 
further  delay  him,  which,  I  think,  in 
deed  was  fate,  as  you  shall  see.  So 
that  it  was  at  least  a  half-hour  before 
he  was  once  more  ready  to  start  on 
his  sinister  errand. 

"Sir,"  said  the  barber,  "I  would  not 
stop  to  serve  you,  except  that  you  hurry 
here,  there,  and  everywhere  to  serve  the 
dead,  and  must  git  shave  when  the 
dead  permit." 

He  told  his  purpose  to  the  under 
taker,  who  entirely  agreed  in  it. 

Indeed,  as  they  passed,  he  called  in 
the  elders  of  Little  Italy  to  counsel,  as 


FELICE  19 

the  Roman  consuls  used  to  do,  and 
presented  to  each  a  lurid  picture  of  the 
vacillation  of  the  recreant  baker,  while 
the  baker,  stealthily  walking,  departed 
like  a  thief  in  the  night.  As  one  and 
all  agreed  with  Martinos,  his  fury  rose, 
more  and  more,  and  he  sent  them  forth 
that  he  might  lock  his  shop  —  a  pre 
caution  he  had  adopted  only  since  the 
advent  of  the  chair  with  the  springs  and 
levers. 


IV 


IS  IT  A  TIME  TO  BE  POLITE  WHEN  THREE 
-  FOUR  —  STARVE 

BUT  a  strange  little  procession  ar 
rived  just  then.  So  that  the  great 
barber  paused  with  the  key  in  his 
hand  and  forgot  all  about  the  criminal 
and  his  righteous  fury,  while  a  smile, 
such  as  no  one  who  did  not  know  more 
about  him  than  I  have  told  here  would 
ever  have  suspected,  spread  over  his  face. 

First  was  a  starved  and  sleepless- 
looking  little  girl  of  twelve,  who  carried 
in  one  arm  a  baby  of  three  months, 
while  another,  of  perhaps  three  years, 
held  tightly  her  other  hand.  Yet  an 
other,  a  year  older,  trailed  at  the  hem 
of  her  skirt  —  much  too  large  and  long 
for  her. 

"Is  this  the  shop  of  Signore  Marti- 
nos?"  asked  the  eldest  one,  in  quite 

Florentine  Italian. 
to 


FELICE  21 

The  barber  leaped  laughing  to  the 
pavement.  (Did  I  tell  you  that  chil 
dren  were  his  besetting  sin?  That  it 
was  said  that  he  would  go  hungry  at 
any  time  to  feed  them?  Besides,  Fir- 
enze  was  the  land  of  his  birth !) 

"Ecco!  Si!  You  have  come  to  the 
correck  door  with  your  caravana,  signo- 
rina!  Enter  in!  Signore  Martinos  him 
self  speak  with  you !  Eh  ?  What  do 
you  desire?  To  be  shave?  Aha,  ha, 
ha!  To  be  hair  cut?  Aha,  ha,  ha! 
No,  no,  no!  Not  for  a  million  soldi 
would  I  cut  those  hair!  Perhaps  dye? 
Aha,  ha,  ha!  Or  bleach?  See,  I  have 
here  forty-seven  hair  shades!  'Capelli 
Colorite!'  Aha!" 

And  now,  having  dragged  them  with 
caresses  and  laughter  into  his  shop,  he 
exhibited  the  glass-covered  card  of 
samples  of  his  hair-shade. 

'You  the  chair  of  judgment!"   he 

cried  to  the  eldest  one,  putting  her  into 

it  with  a  bewildering  clatter  of  levers. 

'You  in  the  place  of  the  counsel,"  and 

he  deposited  the  one  of  three   in   the 


22  FELICE 

high  chair.  'You  on  guard,"  as  he 
perched  the  one  of  about  four  in  the 
other  chair.  "And  as  for  you,  sirrah!" 
with  a  touch  that  made  the  baby  crow 
instead  of  cry,  he  balanced  him  on  his 
shoulder!  So  that  all  were  more  un 
comfortably  apart  than  they  had  ever 
been. 

"Next  the  candy!" 

He  drew  from  behind  the  silken  cur 
tain  where  the  great  book  was  the  box 
wrhich  always  waited  there  for  children. 
The  one  of  three  put  two  tiny  thin 
hands  greedily  into  the  box. 

"No,  no!"  laughed  the  barber. 
"One!  One  at  a  time.  It  is  not  to  be 
greedy!" 

The  little  hands,  used  to  obey 
ing,  regretfully  let  fall  all  but  one 
piece. 

"She  has  not  eaten  since  three  days," 
said  the  eldest  one,  gently,  hanging  her 
own  head. 

"Virgin!"  cried  the  barber,  his  face 
ablaze.  "And  you! --you  have  eaten 
all!  Little  animal!" 


FELICE  23 

"I  have  not  eaten  since  four  days," 
droned  the  piteous  little  voice.  "Per- 
dono!" 

The  barber  leaped  at  the  one  of  three 
so  as  to  frighten  her.  He  snatched  the 
box,  snapped  shut  the  tin  lid,  then  flung 
it  on  its  shelf  again. 

"Wait!"  he  cried  savagely.  "Do 
not  move!  I  understand.  Virgina,  you 
starve." 

He  leaped  out  of  the  door  in  his  fury, 
and  the  babies  did  precisely  as  he  had 
told  them.  They  did  not  move.  He 
had  been  too  terrible.  They  only 
turned  their  frightened  eyes  upon  one 
another,  as  those  may  do  who  await  a 
common  execution. 

It  seemed  but  a  moment  when  he  was 
back  —  his  hands  full  of  smoking;  sau- 

o 

sages,  a  loaf  of  bread  under  each  arm. 
And  in  another  moment  each  one,  not 
excluding  the  baby,  had  in  one  hand  a 
huge  piece  of  sausage  and  in  the  other 
a  ragged  piece  of  bread  -  -  torn  ruth 
lessly  from  the  loaf.  All  to  the  de 
lighted  laughter  of  the  magician  who 


24  FELICE 

had  —  so  it  must  have  seemed  to  them 
-  brought  manna  from  the  skies.  And 
all  the  while  he  chattered. 

'Virgin!  I  am  larcener  myself!  I 
rush  in  that  baking-shop.  I  say  noth 
ing.  Alas!  how  Nardi  look  skeer! 
On  the  counter  is  a  hundred  smoking 
loave !  Only  I  clasp  two  loave'  -  -  the 
same  as  he!  Aha,  ha,  ha!  —  and  rush 
away !  Well  ?  If  a  gentarme  had  been 
to  see,  it  would  be  all  op  with  me. 
There  is  no  explanation.  It  is  the 
skeer  of  violence  without  it  is  accom 
plish.  I  am  grand  stealer!  And  Frit- 
zen!  Aha,  ha,  ha!  I  think  he  pursue 
me  now  with  troops!" 

He  went  to  the  door  to  look. 

:'Well?  Is  it  a  time  to  be  polite 
when  three  —  four  —  starve  ?  " 

He  laughed  again. 

"So  was  it  with  him  —  other  stealer! 
And  I  do  not  go  at  the  palace  of  justice 
now!  Aha,  ha,  ha!  I  am  bad  rascal 
myself  now !  I  git  pinch !  And  Fritzen 
is  there,  perhap,  with  the  adjuration 
against  me!" 


FELICE  25 

Which  did  not  seem  to  worry  him 
much. 

Each  little  stomach  was  filled  pres 
ently. 

"Oh!"  cried  the  barber,  with  a  sud 
den  compunction  and  once  more  darted 
forth. 

When  he  returned  he  had,  balanced 
skilfully  in  his  hands,  four  pieces  of 
brown  paper,  on  each  of  which  was 
piled  something  which  would,  under 
more  favorable  circumstances,  and  with 
more  desirable  constituents,  have  been 
ice-cream. 

"Milk-ball!"  he  cried.  "Milk-ball 
for  dessert,  signorine!" 

As  they  ate  it  —  licking  it  up  from 
the  paper  writh  their  tongues  --he  flung 
anathema  at  the  vender  of  milk-balls : 

"Va!  It  is  beast  —  that  milk-ball 
man!  He  has  offend  me !  He  shall  be 
deported  from  Italia  Minora!  No  more 
shall  he  enter  the  Tonsorielle  of  the 
Green  Moon.  Beast!  To  as'  the  pay 
when  three  — four  —  are  starve!  There 
is  no  time!  Can  he  not  see  there  is  not  ? 


26  FELICE 

And  to  announce  'Thief!'  after  me 
when  I  rush  away!  Aha!  Well,  I  am 
thief!  I  am  grand  rascal!  Dam!" 

Even  this  was  now  eaten,  and  no 
one  had  spoken  a  word  but  the  happy 
barber.  There  would  have  been  no 
opportunity.  Each  small  mouth  was  too 
busy  otherwise.  Now  he  said,  with  the 
baby  happily  asleep  in  his  lap: 

"Presently  the  name  of  my  guests. 
Then  the  purpose  for  which  they  arrive. 
Signorine,  it  is  most  impolite  to  be 
not  introduce  and  to  not  speak  with 
your  host  as  you  eat.  The  names!" 

"Felice!"  said  the  eldest,  with  such 
brevity  that  one  might  have  suspected 
her  also  of  an  intention  to  sleep. 

"Hah!  Little  mother!"  cried  the  de 
lighted  Martinos.  "  It  is  a  little  mother ! 
And  the  next  descending?" 

"Issa,"  answered  the  little  mother 
for  her.  "And  Litle,  and  the  baby  is 
Ricciotto  and  Floris!" 

The  barber  humorously  leaped  and 
looked  about. 

"What?      Is   one   overlook?      You 


FELICE  27 

speak  five  name,  but  here  only  is  four. 
Resolve  me  this  mystery !  Item,  I  have 
all  times  to  count  and  see  whether  three 
or  four  enter  my  shop  —  one  is  so  small. 
Aha,  ha,  ha!" 

" Floriendi,"  said  Felice,  "is  home 
sick.  She  will  die.  We  must  go  back 
to  her!  I  forgot!" 

The  little  mother  hastily  slid  out  of 
the  chair,  this  momentarily  forgotten 
duty  strong  upon  her  —  so  strong  as  to 
be  remorse! 

And  the  savage  barber's  voice  was 
small  as  the  child's  as  he  asked: 

"  Sick  ?  Yes,  come.  Yet  wait  —  one 
moment!" 

Again  he  plunged  forth,  again  com 
mitted  larceny,  and  skeer  three  times, 
again  returned  -  -  with  more  of  the 
sausages,  another  loaf  of  bread,  and  a 
tumbler  full  of  the  milk-ball  man's 
product. 

"Now!" 

At  last  he  locked  the  shop  door  with 
the  key  which  had  all  the  while  been 
in  his  hand,  and  set  forth  in  happy 


28  FELICE 

fury,  through  the  snow  of  the  streets, 
with  the  baby  still  asleep  in  one  arm, 
Litle  in  the  other,  while  Felice  and  Issa 
walked  demurely  at  each  side  and 
carried  the  food.  And  I  don't  know 
which  was  the  happier! 

Felice  had  utterly  forgotten  the  holes 
in  her  shoes,  through  which  the  snow 
had  come  when  she  traveled  in  the 
other  direction,  and  the  barber  forgot 
that  there  had  ever  been  a  heinous 
crime  to  the  disparagement  of  the  do 
mestic  tranquillity  and  the  loss  of 
repute  of  Little  Italy  —  even  to  con 
doning  his  own  evil-doing. 

"For,"  he  explained,  "it  is  heinous 
to  steal.  Yes!  But  law  is  one  thing, 
hunger  another.  Aha,  ha,  ha!  Hasten. 
It  is  wrong  to  desert  the  ill.  The  sick 
one  should  have  eaten  first.  And  also, 
the  gentarme  might  take  me  en  route! 
Oh,  yes !  There  is  no  doubt  I  have  com 
mit  —  not  the  petite  but  the  very  grand 
larceny,  two,  five,  six  time!  I  am  very 
grand  rascal!  Yes!  I  am  worse  than 
ho!  Have  I  not  said  in  my  vanity  that 


FELICE  29 

it  is  better  to  starve  than  steal?  Aha, 
ha,  ha!  But  no,  it  is  better  to  steal 
than  starve.  If  I  can  steal  I  can  also 
reverse  myself.  Who  are  the  lovely  little 
ladies  ?  Where  do  they  come  from  and 
when  do  they  arrive  ?  I  do  not  know 
them.  And  I  know  all  in  Italia  Min- 
ora.  So,  you  are  stranger.  Well  ?  You 
shall  kiss  me  when  we  arrive  at  the 
home.  Will  you?  The  most  chaste 
salute." 

Of  course  they  would.  Now!  And 
two  mouths  were  put  up.  But  he 
stopped  them. 

"No!  I  will  have  my  kisses  at 
leisure  to  the  greater  joy  of  them!  Yes. 
Also,  it  lack  of  decorum  for  ladies  to 
kiss  gentlemen  in  the  seeing  street. 
When  we  arrive  at  home."  (In  fact 
he  was  embarrassed.)  :'Who  is  your 
father  ?  Who  is  your  mother  ?  What  ? 
Why  come  you  to  me?" 

'We  starve,"  said  Felice  simply. 

How  could  one  answer  everything  to 
garrulous  M  artinos  when  he  was  in  his 
happy  furor?  Besides,  they  were  al- 


30  FELICE 

ready  come  to  the  place  they  had  called 
home. 

"What?  Already  arrive?  Virgin! 
Direckly  behind  my  shop!  You  are 
my  neighbors!  And  I  must  love  my 
neighbors  as  myself.  Aha,  ha,  ha! 
Suffer  little  neighbors  to  come  to  Mar- 
tinos !  The  beast !  Who  destroy  them ! 
Eat  them  all  up!  Shave  their  face! 
Cut  their  hair!  Bleach  it  from  ugly 
blue  to  lovely  yellow!  Aha,  ha,  ha!" 

But  it  was  well  that  the  barber 
laughed  then.  He  could  not  have 
done  so  in  a  moment  more. 


TIS  LAUGHTER  MAKES  THE  SUN  SHINE, 
'TIS  SORROW  MAKES  IT  RAIN 

FOR  they  went  up,  up,  up,  to  the  top. 
And  then  you  must  excuse  happy  Mar- 
tinos  for  weeping.  For  there  on  a  hor 
rid  bed  lay  the  fairest  flower  of  a 
maiden  any  one  had  ever  seen!  So 
frail  she  seemed  that  Felice's  words 
appeared  true.  She  was  to  die.  And 
her  hair  was  not  dark  like  the  others, 
but  fair,  and  her  great  eyes  were  blue 
as  the  sky.  She  was  a  little  older  than 
Felice. 

And  here  it  was  that  the  great  barber, 
with  a  heart  even  greater  than  his 
fame,  knelt,  like  a  mother,  at  the  horrid 
bed  and  wept.  But  I  cannot  tell  you 
-  no  one  could  —  of  the  something 
which  instantly  passed  from  his  heart 
to  that  of  the  little  sick  girl.  So  that 
the  dear  small  face  smiled  up  at  him  as 

31 


32  FELICE 

if  she  were  not  afraid,  and  as  if  he 
were  not  a  stranger.  Indeed,  it  was 
said  that  the  faces  of  children  al 
ways  smiled  at  him.  But  the  tiny  thin 
hands  of  Floris  went  out  to  him  also, 
and  no  mother  has  ever  taken  her 
child's  hands  more  gently  than  did  he, 
this  barber  of  Little  Italy,  take  those  of 
pretty  Floris. 

"She  is  not  ill,"  said  he  to  himself, 
shutting  his  teeth  tight  at  the  fate  which 
made  such  things  to  be,  "she  is  only 
starve!  Steal!  Yes,  the  baker  is  cor- 
rec'!  Kill  to  save  life!  That  I  under 
stand  now.  Kill  the  ugly  life  to  save 
the  beautiful  life.  Yes,  that  is  right. 
So  is  it  among  the  beast  of  the  field. 
Virgin!  I  am  glad  I  am  stealer." 

There  was  no  time  for  the  dainty 
food  which  the  barber,  as  well  as  you 
and  I,  know  the  child  ought  to  have 
had.  But  since  he  fed  her  the  sausage 
in  very  small  bits,  and  smiled  and 
whispered,  and  even  sang  to  her  as  he 
did  it,  that  humble  food  of  the  street 
seemed  quite  ambrosial. 


FELICE  33 

"  There  must  be  flowers  for  the  flower 
to  feed  upon,  and  then  the  bees  will 
come  and  kiss  the  flower  and  make 
sweet  honey.  But  to-morrow  for  that! 
To-day  it  is  Fritzen's  bad  sausage! 
Aha,  ha,  ha!  Yes,  courage!  To-mor 
row  and  we  shall  eat  flowers  and  drink 
dew!" 

All  of  which  made  the  little  sick  girl 
laugh;  and  the  others,  seeing  this,  and 
knowing  that  it  is  birthright  of  children 
to  laugh,  came  and  clustered  round  and 
laughed  too.  So  that  into  that  room 
where  the  sun  never  shone  the  barber 
seemed  to  have  brought  it. 

:  'Tis  laughter  makes  the  sun  shine : 
'tis  sorrow  makes  it  rain  —  so  my 
mother  say  to  me  when  I  was  not  three 
feet  long!"  laughed  the  barber.  "And 
so  I  now  say  to  you,  who  are  but  three 
feet  long,  Floris,  cari  mio!" 


VI 


SOME  HOARD  VANITY  AS  OTHERS  HOARD 
GOLD 

"Now  it  is  time  to  explain,"  re 
minded  the  happy  Martinos,  presently. 
"  Why  is  it  that  the  dear,  dear  cara- 
vana  come  happily  to  the  door  of  my 
shop  of  the  Green  Moon?  Who  in 
form  you  of  it?" 

But  they  all  fell  silent.  Suddenly  it 
seemed  as  if  he  had  again  taken  all  the 
sunshine  he  had  brought. 

"Where  is  the  mother,  lovely  one?" 
he  asked  of  Felice. 

"Dead." 

''Virgin!"  whispered  the  barber, 
looking  at  the  youngest.  "How  long 
ago?" 

"Month,"  she  added. 

"And  your  father?" 

Martinos  was  whispering  now,  and 
the  ready  tears  were  at  his  eyes. 

34 


FELICE  35 

"In  prison." 

''Virgin!  Then  his  name !  He  shall 
soon  be  out.  What  a  government  is 
that  will  take  so  needful  a  father  from 
so  needful  a  family  —  no  matter  what 
the  crime!  The  name!  I,  myself,  will 
go  at  the  palace  of  justice  and  get  him 
for  you.  It  is  outrage  upon  the  grand 
peace  and  the  domestic  tranquillity. 
And  also  the  happy  repute.  The  name ! 
Have  I  not  the  pu-11  ?  Do  we  not  vote 
aright?  Aha!  The  name!" 

Spoken  like  not  alone  a  dictator  of 
that  city,  but  of  the  whole  world,  to  the 
children!  The  barber  raped  his  foun 
tain  pen  from  its  pocket  to  make  the 
necessary  record  and  cried  again: 

"II  nome!"- 

;<Virvaso  Piccioli,"  said  Felice. 

The  pen  dropped  from  the  hand  of 
the  barber  to  the  floor,  while  he  stared 
distractedly  from  one  small,  terrified 
face  to  another.  Presently  he  said,  as 
if  he  but  breathed  it: 

"  Signorine,  I  have  ruin  —  destroy 
you!  I.  I,  who  would  die  for  you! 


36  FELICE 

It  is  I  have  riveted  your  parent's  chain 
for  ever  and  ever!  Virgina,  here  is  the 
punishment  of  vanity!  Ah,  vanity! 
Ah,  vanity!  Some  hoard  the  vanity  as 
other  hoard  the  gold.  I  have  not  gold. 
No!  Always  is  my  rent  not  paid  till 
gentarme  come.  But  vanity!  That  I 
have  sufficient  to  bu-urn!  Bestia!" 

Those  he  had  made  so  happy  a  mo 
ment  before  now  huddled  together  away 
from  him,  at  his  self-abasement. 

;'They  told  us  to  go  to  you.  They 
called  you  the  great  barber.  She  said 
that  you  were  kind  —  Libera  Rosa 
Rocco.  The  kindest  man  in  the  world. 
You  would  not  let  us  starve --you 
would  get  our  father  back!" 

"I  am  beast!"  cried  the  barber,  smi 
ting  himself  savagely  on  the  chest. 

Then,  seeing  the  terror  this  inspired, 
he  said  again: 

"No,  no.  I  am  kind.  Do  not  be 
skeer.  I  am  kind  all  right,  but  only 
animal  call  ass.  That  is  all.  I  do  not 
know  what  to  do  —  for  first  time  I  am 
stun.  Virgin!" 


FELICE  37 

He  was  stalking  up  and  down,  when 
he  suddenly  stopped,  laughed,  brought 
the  sun  back,  and  had  them  once  more 
all  about  him  in  a  tight,  thrilled  audience. 

"Oh,  my  children,  I  have  a  large 
thought.  Thus  it  is  my  large  thoughts 
come  —  in  the  distress.  When  I  laugh 
and  cry  —  that  is  the  time  for  large 
thought.  Not  alone  when  I  laugh. 
Then  it  cannot.  Not  alone  when  I  cry. 
Then  it  is  not  easy.  But  when  both! 
Ah,  then!" 

He  was  doing  both  now. 

"Here  is  the  great  thought."  He 
looked  about  as  if  there  might  be  other 
hearers,  and  then  went  on.  "I  must 
undo  myself.  Also,  I  must  be  punish. 
Well?  I  have  sworn  to  the  people. 
All  the  city  is  my  witness.  If  I  am 
wrong  they  never  trust  me  no  more. 
But,  observe,  there  is  a  foolish  baker  - 
panettiere  —  stole  from.  Well?  If  a 
mediatore  went  ?  If  I  ?  And  there  is 
a  better  mediatore  than  me!" 

:'Who?"  they  all  asked  at  once. 
This  was  hard  to  fancy. 


38  FELICE 

"You!"  he  lauged.  "All  of  you! 
Together!  As  you  came  at  my  shop! 
Yes!  Excep'  Signorina  Florendi.  1 
have  a  plan  also  for  her.  But  you  shall 
go  at  the  palace  of  justice  and  other 
things!" 

"Us?"  came  three  terrified  little 
voices,  once  more. 

"But  first  we  will  write.  That  is  the 
way  a  royal  meeting  is  arrange.  The 
letter.  Quickly!  Can  you  write?  — 
the  English?  No.  Then  1." 

He  had  already  recovered  his  foun- 
tian  pen  and  was  at  work  with  his  accus 
tomed  fury. 


VII 

THE  FOUNTAIN  PEN  IS  MIGHTIER  THAN 
TROUBLE 

"  Eccellenza: 

"  It  is  true  that  for  long  time  the  grand 
peace  and  the  domestic  tranquillity  has 
been  here  preserve,  according  to  that 
Declaration  of  the  Independence  of 
Signore  Washington.  Yet,  sometime, 
has  it  been  broke  beyond  the  wish  of 
us  and  to  the  terrificatione  of  the  peace 
of  the  city.  For  these  we  regret.  But 
it  is  well  known  to  us,  Eccellenza,  that 
the  regret  do  not  mend  the  fractured 
peace,  nor  establish  once  more  that 
independence  which  lightens  the  word 
and  we  throw  down.  Moreover,  it  bring 
into  evil  repute  that  certain  Piccioli 
whom  you  have  there  in  chains.  Con 
cerning  him,  especially,  these  are  writ 
ten.  Permit  it  to  be  known  to  your 
excellency  - 

39 


40  FELICE 

Here  the  great  barber  paused,  and, 
with  a  tremendous  flourish,  read  what 
he  had  written,  to  the  awed  little 
family. 

"It  is  all  correck  English,  signorine, 
each  word,  and,  observe,  the  American 
spirit  is  preserve,  according  - 

But  it  occurred  to  him  that  the  Ameri 
can  spirit  wrould  not  matter  to  them. 
Yet,  it  should  be  otherwise. 

"  Do  you  know,  my  little  ones,  —  my 
piccoli  fanciulli  --  that  it  was  an  Italian 
who  found  this  great  country  ?  Ameri 
go  Vespucci!  Si!  We  are  brothers 
with  the  Americans,  and  no  one  can 
cheat  us  of  that.  It  is  true  that  the 
Spaniard  call  it,  on  the  map,  Columbia. 
But  the  people  —  us  —  wTe  call  it  every 
where  and  all  time  II  America!  Aha! 
Liberty  or  death!" 

The  letter  again: 

"  So  let  us  write  that  his  majesty  the 
mayore  may  be  well  dispose.  Speak  you 
those  thing  which  happen  to  you,  as 
children  speak,  and  so  I  wrill  put  them 
down  in  the  English  which  is  as  that 


FELICE  41 

I  have  written.  Correck  and  also  im 
posing.  Thereby  will  his  heart  be 
weaken  --  il  grandito  sindaco!  —  call 
mayore  —  and  subjeck  to  the  grand 
mercy  -  -  like  the  heart  of  a  beautiful 
old  lady  in  a  cap  and  spectacles  who 
takes  snuff.  Aha,  ha,  ha!  To-day  I 
have  the  very  grand  thoughts  together 
with  understanding.  Now  proceed  as 
if  all  were  yours  but  the  fountain  pen. 
I  present  you  with  what  I  have  already 
compose.  Signorina,  the  fountain  pen 
is  mightier  than  any  trouble!  Viva  la 
penna  a  fontana!" 

"Sir,"  began  the  little  girl,  perspir 
ing,  but  understanding  the  tremendous 
importance  of  it. 

"No,  no,  no!  Eccellenza!  Another 
eccellenza  is  proper  at  this  place.  Ec 
cellenza!  On,  on,  my  dear,  dear 
child!" 

Thus  applauded,  the  little  girl  stead 
ily  pursued  her  duty  -  -  perhaps  the 
most  difficult  of  her  small  life.  Fancy 
her  dictating  a  letter!  To  the  great 
barber!  The  magician  who  had 


42  FELICE 

brought  the  manna  straight  from  the 
skies  for  them!  And  to  be  read  by 
that  sovereign  of  the  city  who  held  her 
dear  father  in  chains  —  according  to 
the  rhetoric  of  the  barber,  which  she 
had  quite  adopted.  And  yet  more 
than  all  the  rest,  it  palpitated  with  the 
momentous  theme  of  Liberty  or  Death 
-  again  in  Martinos's  Fourth-of- July 
phrases.  He  may  have  known  —  it  is 
entirely  likely  that  he  did  --that  petit 
larceny  is  not  punished  with  death 
in  America.  But  the  little  girl  did 
not. 

"Eccellenza,  if  our  father  is  still 
chain  at  your  palace,  send  him  home 
that  we  do  not  starve.  Yesterday  he 
go  to  get  food  at  the  baking-place  call 
La  Panella  Italiana  and  is  pinch  by 
gentarme.  And  our  mother  is  dead 
soon  ago.  And  Ricciotto  is  three 
month  and  yet  eats  only  milk.  And 
Floris  is  sick  so  that  she  die.  And 
Litle  is  three  years,  and  Issa  is  four, 
and  I  am  twelve.  My  name  is  Felice. 
I  am  call  "Little  Mother."  And  we 


FELICE  43 

all  were  hungry  until  Signore  —  il 
barbiere  — ' 

"  Not  a  word !  Not  a  word ! "  shouted 
the  barber  at  her  so  that  she  was  fright 
ened.  "Not  a  mention  of  the  name  of 
the  beast  who  -  -  No,  no,  no !  That  is 
my  punishment.  Also  it  will  ruin  you. 
See,  I  must  erase  three  word.  I  am 
only  animal!  No  part  have  I  in  the 
rescue  —  that  is  my  sentence.  I  erase 
Barber." 

This  he  did  by  the  simple  and  direct 
expedient  of  moistening  the  end  of  his 
little  finger  —  quite  as  he  did  when  he 
had,  now  and  then,  through  inattention, 
the  misfortune  to  cut  a  customer.  Only 
then  he  would  put  alum  on  the  tip  of  his 
finger  when  he  had  moistened  it. 

"Now  from  the  word  hungry.  Affa- 
mata!  On!" 

But  at  that  moment  he  looked  and 
saw  two  tears  stealing  down  pathways 
they  themselves  made  on  the  little  girl's 
face. 

Well,  what  barber  could  help  it? 
Presently  he  had  two  of  his  own  to 


44  FELICE 

mingle  with  those  of  the  little  mother, 
and  the  letter  went  on  with  one  arm 
about  her  after  that.  Which,  you  must 
know,  if  you  have  been  a  hungry,  lonely 
little  girl,  with  a  large  family,  no  mother, 
and  a  father  in  prison,  is  much  better 
for  both  the  letter  and  the  little  girl. 
Perhaps — for  you  —  the  letter  itself 
may  prove  this. 

"So  that,  yesterday,  my  father  went 
to  that  panella  and  got  pinch,  account 
we  need  the  bread  and  have  not  the 
silver.  We  cannot  come  unto  you, 
Eccellenza,  for  the  baby  cry.  He  will 
not  stay  with  any  one  but  me,  and 
that- 

"Stop!  Stop!  You  shall  come  unto 
him!  I  have  said  it!" 

Again  the  barber  had  to  warn  her 
then  urge  her  on. 

"All  night,  sweet  Eccellenza,  we 
wait,  wait,  wait.  He  is  not  come.  We 
are  that  sad  and  hungry.  We  do  not 
sleep,  only  wait.  And  then,  in  the 
morning  is  come  a  gentarme  and  tell 
us  he  is  pinch  and  at  your  palace  in 


FELICE  45 

chain.  And  then  our  heart  is  break. 
Eccellenza,  he  do  that  for  us  who  are 
hungry  so  long.  So,  break  off  his  chain 
and  punish  us.  That  will  be  correck." 

The  child  was  at  the  end  of  her  re 
sources.  But  the  barber  knew  the 
value  of  vernacular. 

"More!  More!"  he  cried.  " It  con 
vinces  !  It  will  have  power  to  break  the 
chain  of  the  captive  and  set  him  free! 
More  —  more!  It  is  better  for  chain 
than  ax!" 

"Eccellenza,"  the  child  toiled  on, 
"thus  we  are  tempted.  It  is  three  days 
we  have  not  eaten.  And  I  take  the 
children  out  to  look  in  the  windows. 
In  that  of  Signore  Fritzen,  who  maintain 
the  delicatessen  shop,  is  beautiful  sau 
sages  —  oh,  very  beautiful!  In  that  of 
Signore  Vespasiano  are  cakes  that  smell. 
Cakes  with  small  fruits  in  the  top. 
And  as  we  look  and  smell  we  are  starve 
more  and  more.  Eccellenza,  it  is  three 
days!" 

Again  the  happy  barber  clamored  for 
more.  But  the  child  had  exhausted 


46  FELICE 

both  the  powers  of  her  body  and  the 
contents  of  her  mind. 

"I  cannot!"  she  said  weakly,  relaps 
ing  upon  the  barber. 

"Nay,  nay,  nay!  Think,  think, 
think!" 

While  he  waited  for  her  to  think  he 
found  a  tin  cracker-box  which  had  been 
the  bright  treasure  of  Issa,  and  made  a 
fire  of  sticks  in  it  at  the  side  of  the  bed 
of  Floris  —  whereat  all  laughed  happily 
and  never  minded  the  choking  smoke. 

"Well?"  he  demanded  of  Felice. 

"I  have  emptied  my  head,"  said  the 
child,  desperately. 

"No,  no,  no!  Bite  my  pen!  So  it  is 
I  woo  the  great  thought  —  by  the  biting 
of  the  pen!  Bite  my  beautiful  fountain 
pen!" 

And  though  he  thrust  it  recklessly 
into  the  rosebud  of  a  mouth,  nothing 
more  came  from  the  beleaguered  little 
head. 

"Well,  then,"  concluded  the  barber, 
cheerfully,  "it  is  sufficient.  And  we 
will  finish  it  so : '  Permit  me,  most  sweet 


FELICE  47 

Eccellenza,  to  remain  your  obliged, 
obedient,  humble  friend:  Issa,  Floris, 
Litle,  Ricciotto,  and  Felice!'  Aha,  ha, 
ha!  Now  then,  know  there  is  a  thing 
call  special  delivery  stamp.  Well  ?  One 
we  put  inside,  on  envelope  address  with 
the  number  of  the  great  barber  shop. 
One  outside  to  the  mayore--il  grand 
Sindaco  —  aha,  ha,  ha! --and  quick 
like  lightning  come  back  the  answer: 
'Your  prayer  is  grant.  Here  is  your 
parent  and  much  money.  Be  happy 
ever  after.  Virgin  bless  you!  Mayor 
of  the  city.'  II  grandito  sindaco.  Vir 
gin!  Hah!  I  am  also  prophet!" 


VIII 

THE    SPECIAL   STAMP    IS    SWIFTER   THAN 
JUSTICE WHEN  IT  GOES  BACKWARD 

ALL  this  the  barber  did.  Yet  not  all 
that  he  had  planned  happened  which 
is  usual  —  or  perhaps  I  had  better  say 
that  not  all  he  had  planned  happened 
as  he  had  planned  it  —  but  much 
better  —  which  is  unusual. 

The  letter,  indeed,  went  on  its  errand 
as  swiftly  as  he  had  hoped  —  almost  as 
if  it  knew  what  need  there  was  for  haste. 
And,  even  more  swiftly  than  any  one 
could  have  fancied,  the  answer  came 
back.  But,  nevertheless,  between  the 
two  events  there  was  time  for  some 
things  to  happen  which  belong  to  the 
story,  and  which  I  must  tell  first  - 
according  to  your  patience. 

"  For  the  special  stamp,"  sighed  Mar- 
tinos,  "is  swifter  than  justice  —  when 
it  goes  backward." 

48 


FELICE  49 

These  are  the  things  which  happened 
to  the  story  between  the  sending  and 
the  getting  of  the  letter.  Martinos 
said  they  were  also  for  his  penance. 
But,  if  that  were  true,  it  was  the  hap 
piest  of  penances. 

First,  he  took  them  all  shopping  on 
the  South  Street.  There  was  a  certain 
Pietro  Ardano,  who  in  the  life  of  the 
city  was  coachman  to  the  millionaire 
Martin  Muffin.  But  in  Italia  Minora 
he  was  a  man  of  substance  -  -  having  a 
private  business  of  his  own  L-  the  owner 
of  no  less  than  two  carriages,  which  he 
let  for  hire.  One  was  a  mere  cab. 
But  the  other  was  a  hack.  It  was  this 
the  good  barber  comandeered,  without 
a  word  of  the  expense,  and  into  it  he 
packed  Felice  and  her  family  —  saving 
Floris,  for  whom  he  had  reserved  some 
thing  more  exquisite  about  which  you 
are  to  learn. 

They  came  first  to  the  store  of  Isa- 
dore  Kron  where  a  barker  without,  who 
screamed  of  the  bargains  within,  invited 
them  to  alight.  Without  more  ado  the 


50  FELICE 

barber,  who  was  not  wise  concerning 
ladies'  attire,  did  this  —  only  to  dis 
cover  that  Kron  sold  nothing  but  cor 
sets  —  of  which  his  family,  as  yet,  knew 
nothing.  But  the  next  descent  yielded 
well.  Here  a  young  gentleman  brought 
to  the  very  window  of  the  hack  a  dress 
in  red  and  green  checks,  very  little 
worn,  which  he  offered  for  twenty-three 
cents.  There  was  no  paltering  with 
such  a  bargain  as  that!  Especially 
when  Issa's  eyes  threatened  permanent 
enlargement  as  the  frock  became  hers. 
The  young  gentleman  then  led  them, 
like  a  conqueror  his  captives,  into  his 
store.  For  he  averred  that  it  was  his 
own.  And,  lo!  there  were  shoes  to  be 
had,  just  as  little  worn  —  and  stock 
ings,  some  of  them  with  absolutely  no 
darns  in  them  —  and  small  petticoats. 
One,  the  young  gentleman  --  who  said 
his  name  was  Von  Lichtenstein  —  said 
had  come  from  a  perfectly  unbeliev 
able  source.  He  let  them  understand 
that  the  child  of  a  millionaire  in  mis 
fortune  had  worn  it.  It  had  a  separate 


FELICE  51 

box  all  to  itself  on  the  shelf,  and  was  of 
pink  flannel,  so  soft  that  they  had  seen 
nothing  like  it  before,  and  embroidered 
in  blue  silk.  There  was  not  a  blemish 
upon  it,  and  it  smelled  splendidly  of 
camphor  balls !  But  the  price!  When 
that  was  mentioned,  in  whispers,  after 
long  consideration  --they  decided  that 
it  was  quite  impossible.  But  they 
were,  of  course,  likely  to  be  mistaken 
about  the  opulence  and  power  of  the 
magician  who  had  brought  down  the 
manna  for  them.  Seventy  cents !  Yet 
the  great  barber  not  only  took  it,  but 
paid  seven  cents  extra  for  the  box  in 
which  it  was  kept  —  and  more,  he 
took  out  his  fountain  pen  and  wrote 
on  the  lid: 

"Floris.  From  her  adorer  Marti- 
nos!" 

Then  they  came  to  the  shop  of  Pas- 
quale  Rezzio,  where  a  beautiful  sign  in 
red  and  green,  which  swung  to  the 
breeze,  announced  that  he  was  a  jew 
eler. 

Well,   he  had   a  ring  for  each   one 


52  FELICE 

which  he  would  guarantee  to  wear  a 
year  without  turning  black.  But  one 
of  them --the  one  for  thirty  cents  - 
had  on  it  the  figure  of  a  heart  in  blue 
enamel,  pierced  through  with  an  arrow 
of  crimson.  Again  did  the  barber  buy 
a  box,  and  again  did  he  write  on  it: 

"Floris.     From  her  Martinos." 

He  could  have  written  more  this 
time,  so  do  splendid  things  grow  by 
repetition,  but  there  was  much  less 
room  for  writing. 

But  you  are  not  to  suppose  that  on  a 
day  when  the  temperature  was  down  to 
twenty,  and  when  the  snow  was  falling, 
the  barber  was  unwise  enough  to  waste 
much  of  his  time  and  money  on  rings 
and  such  frippery.  He  knew,  on  the 
corner,  a  store  where  there  were  in  the 
window  wonderful  over-garments  - 
some  of  real  Astrakhan,  according  to 
the  placard.  It  was  here  that  he  next 
told  the  coachman  to  drive. 

When  they  emerged  from  the  shop  the 
barber  would  have  shivered  if  he  had 
not  been  so  happy,  but  the  little  ones 


FELICE  53 

had  never  been  so  warm.  They  were, 
indeed,  entirely  too  warm.  The  bar 
ber  cast  open  the  collars  of  their  coats, 
which  the  shop-keeper  had  buttoned 
close  about  their  necks. 

"Not  too  warm,  my  children.  It  is  a 
cold  country  —  a  most  co-old  country 
until  you  get  at  the  heart.  Then  it  is 
more  warm  save  one  in  all  the  world. 
Italy!  Italy!  But  to-day!  Could  one 
be  happier  even  in  Italy?  Not  too 
warm,  my  beloved  children!" 

Next  came  the  household  utensils  - 
about  which  the  great  barber  had  to 
descend  to  seek  information  from  the 
little  mother.  But  together  they  bought 
a  clock  at  Vardi's  with  only  a  few  bits 
of  enamel  off  of  the  dial.  And  a  cook 
ing-stove,  two  coal-oil  lamps,  a  can  for 
the  oil,  and  sixteen  yards  of  rag  carpet 
as  good  as  new.  Besides,  there  was  a 
picture  of  Garibaldi  in  a  cocked  hat  for 
decoration,  and  two  blue  glass  vases  for 
the  mantel  which  Martinos  remembered 
to  have  seen.  Last  was  the  fuel  for  the 
stove  and  the  things  to  cook  on  it. 


54  FELICE 

Then  they  went  home  and  put  the 
things  in  place,  and  afterward  each 
took  a  hand  at  the  cooking  —  and  there 
was  never  a  happier  family  than  this 
one  which  the  barber  had  suddenly 
adopted,  as  it  sat  down  to  eat  its  own 
cooking. 

"For  my  penance,"  he  explained 
again,  concealing  his  happiness  as  well 
as  he  could,  -  "  my  penance  to  the 
dead  mother  and  the  chained  father 
whom  I  have  insult.  And  the  punish 
ment  of  the  vanity  —  for  being  animal 
name  ass!" 

Lastly,  with  the  help  of  the  levatrice 
who  came  in,  the  Libera  Rosa  Rocco, 
who  had  sent  them  to  the  barber,  they 
manufactured  and  sent  a  telegram,  at 
frightful  expense,  to  the  World's  Fail- 
concerning  Piccioli's  employment.  And 
again  I  say  that  if  this  were  a  penance, 
it  was  the  happiest  any  one  had  ever 
performed. 


IX 


I  DO  not  know  everything  about  that 
letter  to  the  palace  at  the  crossing  of  the 
streets.  But  I  do  know  that  on  that 
very  day  yet,  as  swift  as  a  special-de 
livery  stamp  could  bring  it,  came  an 
answer  to  the  barber  shop,  whence  it 
went,  yet  more  swiftly,  in  the  barber's 
own  hands,  to  the  little  garret  back  of 
his  shop. 

Though  it  was  addressed  to  the  bar 
ber,  of  course  he  would  not  open  it.  He 
was  far  too  polite  a  barber  for  that. 
And  even  when  the  little  mother  begged 
him  to  do  it  because  she  could  not  read, 
he  first  said, 

;'Then,  by  you  leave,  signorine!" 
though  he  was  quite  mad  to  rip  it  open. 

"His  Honor  the  Mayor  has  sent  me 

55 


56  FELICE 

your  letter,"  it  said,  "and,  if  all  it  says 
is  true,  you  are  a  brave  little  girl,  and 
deserve  to  have  what  you  ask.  But 
tricks  are  so  often  played  upon  judges 
that  I  must  make  you  come  here,  to 
the  city  hall,  where  I  may  see  and  ques 
tion  you.  You  know,  the  letter  is  written 
in  a  grown-up  hand,  and  this  address 
is  a  barber  shop.  Besides,  Officer  Vin- 
cenzo  tells  me  that  you  cannot  write 
English  at  all.  But  I  think  if  you  will 
come  here  we  shall  understand  each 
other,  and  something  may  happen.  I'll 
see. 

"I  am  very  sincerely  yours, 

JAMES  RYAN,  Magistrate" 

Even  before  he  had  reached  the  end 
of  it,  the  barber  was  leaping  from  one 
end  of  the  small  room  to  the  other  - 
indeed,  bumping  his  head  furiously 
against  the  shingles  before  he  was  re 
called  to  propriety. 

"Aha,  ha,  ha!  Was  it  not  right  to 
have  the  large  thought --and  a  cele 
brated  shop  ?  How  he  deteck  me  that 


FELICE  57 

it  is  I  write!  And  my  shop!  Perhap 
he  have  read  on  the  Fourth  of  July,  in 
II  Vesuvio  ?  Aha !  He  is  already  free ! 
Mourn  no  more,  my  children !  Ragazzi 
cari,  mourn  not!  Did  I  not  tell  you? 
Now  go  to  sleep.  There  is  no  worship 
ful  judge  to-day  no  more.  But  to 
morrow!  Ah!  Perhap"  -and  for  a 
moment  he  was  plaintive  -  "  perhap, 
after  the  penance  is  enough,  after  all 
is  well,  we  may  tell  that  it  was  the  great 
thought  of  Martinos,  the  barber  bestia 
in  the  tonsorie  of  the  Green  Moon 
and  the  Seventh  Street.  Sleep!  Sleep! 
Dormire,  ragazzi!" 

But  do  you  think  that  any  one  but 
the  baby  slept  in  that  garret  on  that 
wonderful  night?  And  the  hours 
dragged  leadenly,  you  may  be  sure, 
until  ten  in  the  morning  —  which  the 
barber  knew  was  the  hour  for  the  awak 
ening  of  the  judicial  Juggernaut! 

So,  promptly  at  ten,  he  arrived,  cry 
ing,  even  before  he  reached  them: 

"Go,  go,  go!  In  haste  go!  What, 
not  ready?  I  have  been  detain  with 


58  FELICE 

the  shave  of  a  dead  man.  Now  go! 
At  once!  Be  the  very  early  children!" 

The  frightened  little  girl  begged  him 
to  go  with  them. 

"No,  no,  no!"  almost  whined  the 
barber.  "  I  have  not  right  to  the  glory. 
I  covet  it --Virgin!  how  I  covet  it! 
But  I  have  no  right.  It  is  my  penance! 
Yet  it  was  a  most  great  thought  —  was 
it  not,  my  children  ?  Never  have  I  had 
a  more  greater  thought.  Go,  go;  the 
glory  is  yours.  I  will  wait  here  —  in 
my  penitence  --I  and  my  dear  Floris. 
He  say  that  you  are  brave!  Well,  who 
knows  this  better  than  I?" 

As  he  dressed  them  in  their  old  cloth 
ing  they  still  needed  urging. 

"  Beside,  who  will  preserve  the  home 
in  the  absence  ?  I.  And  the  brave  and 
very  ill  Floris!  I  remain  to  preserve 
the  home  in  penitence  and  tears  —  I, 
and  the  beautiful  but  ill  Floris  —  and 
you  go  and  return  all  fill  with  the  glory 
of  the  palace !  What  ?  Yes !  But  the 
old  clothe'.  When  you  go  to  beg,  wear 
old  clothes." 


FELICE  59 

They  were  now  ready. 

'You  take  the  baby  —  yes  — just  as 
when  the  caravana  came  at  my  shop. 
And  here  hold  the  hand  of  Issa.  Here 
of  Litle.  Now!  Aha,  ha,  ha!  Will 
not  he  that  gives  and  receives  justice 
rejoice  in  the  beautiful  caravana  ?  Did 
he  not  speak  those  about  bravery! 
Well?  For  that  reason  the  more  you 
appear  unto  him  the  more  his  joy  is. 
Suffer  the  little  children  to  arrive  at 
the  magistrate!  Ah!  And  the  very  ill 
Floris  and  I  will  wait  and  be  sad  until 
you  return." 

(But  there  was  not  a  bit  of  sadness  in 
his  plan  for  himself  and  Floris,  as  you 
shall  learn!) 

"Nevertheless,  not  in  the  new  clothes. 
For  the  new  garment  make  the  bad 
laughter  and  the  haughty  derision. 
But  the  old  clothe'  make  pity.  Aha!" 


THE  SOVEREIGN  OF  THE  CITY  ALONE 
HAS  POWER  TO  TURN  AWAY  THE 
CHILL  SHOULDER  OF  THE  GEN 
DARME 

Now,  they  had  no  more  knowledge  of 
where  the  palace  of  justice  and  other 
things  was  than  they  had  of  the  where 
abouts  of  the  antarctic  circle.  And  the 
barber  did  not  tell  them.  This  was 
part  of  his  cunning  plan. 

"As'  -  -  as'  -  -  as'!  Unto  the  poliz- 
ziotto  —  the  gentarme  unto  whomso 
ever  you  come  —  say,  *  Our  father  is 
chain  at  the  palace  of  justice  and  other 
thing.  \Ve  go  to  break  his  chain  that 
he  may  be  free.  Behole!  Are  we  not 
most  brave  ? '  Then  observe  if  any  one 
turn  unto  you  the  chill  shoulder!  Aha! 
La  reffreddore  di  spella!  Aha! 

"First,  they  will  observe  the  ancient 
clothe'.  Then  is  arrive  in  the  heart 

60 


FELICE  61 

pity.  Aha!  Next,  say  that  the  sover 
eign  of  the  city  has  sent  for  you  and 
that  you  shall  be  guide  unto  him. 
Well,  well,  if  they  doubt  —  then  show 
the  letter.  Alas!  it  is  all  done  and 
there  is  nothing  but  the  huzzas!" 

Many  people  saw  that  little  caravan 
as  it  frightenedly  made  its  way  through 
the  snow  from  the  Seventh  Street,  along 
the  street  called  Christian,  to  the  Broad 
Street,  where  lived  the  millionaires. 
And  to  many  they  repeated  those  say 
ings  of  the  barber,  which  they  had 
memorized.  And  to  others  showed  the 
letter,  so  that  all  the  way  there  was  an 
ovation  for  them.  The  windows  were 
filled,  and  the  doorways,  and  one  told 
to  another  what  it  meant.  And  smile 
gave  birth  to  smile,  all  along  the  poor 
and  dirty  street —  for,  curiously  enough, 
the  news  of  their  progression  preceded 
them.  Presently,  save  here  and  there 
a  tear  where  some  one  was,  like  the 
barber,  too  filled  with  sentiment,  the 
poor  street  was  lit  with  one  great  smile. 
And  more.  Many  were  not  content 


62  FELICE 

with  this.  One  might  hear  some  mur 
mur  aves.  And  others  ask  the  Virgin 
to  go  with  them.  Yet  others  —  all 
women  whom  one  would  know  for 
their  poverty  —  came  and  stopped  the 
little  ones  to  cumber  them  with  strange 
gifts  -  -  of  food  -  -  milk  -  -  as  if  the 
journey  to  the  palace  of  justice  and 
other  things  were  far.  And  they  did 
not  refuse  the  curious  things,  but  took 
them,  and  so  increased  their  burdens, 
but  smiled  back  at  the  givers,  and 
repeated  those  sayings  of  the  great 
barber,  and  showed  that  letter. 

So,  when  a  woman  with  a  child  in 
each  hand  let  one  of  them  present  her 
kitten  to  Issa,  it  was  a  gift  too  exquisite 
in  the  giving  and  the  taking  to  be  left 
behind. 

Thus,  at  last,  they  came  from  the 
mean  little  street  called  Christian  to  the 
one  called  Broad,  whose  splendor,  they 
did  not  know,  was  indeed  that  of  the 
Broad  Way,  while  that  they  had  trav 
ersed  was  the  travail  of  the  narrow 
way.  Here  they  stood  bewildered,  and 


FELICE  63 

would  have  faltered  before  the  magnifi 
cence  had  not  Officer  Vincenzo  at  once 
spoken  to  them.  For  he  had  seen  the 
little  caravan  and  its  accompanying  tu 
mult  coming  up  the  street  called  Chris 
tian.  Only,  as  they  approached  the 
Broad  Street,  all  that  happy  people  who 
had  followed  and  God-blessed  them 
ceased.  For  no  one  ever  came  willingly 
from  the  little  street  called  Christian  out 
into  the  great  one  called  Broad.  It  did 
not  seem  their  country.  So  that  they 
were  suddenly  lonely  and  terrified. 
The  baby  clung  closely  about  the  neck 
of  the  little  mother,  Litle  held  her  hand 
with  her  mightiest  grip,  the  kitten  sunk 
his  claws  deeply,  while  Issa  closed  up 
so  upon  Felice's  heels  that  she  could 
scarcely  get  along  in  the  snow  —  and  her 
new  shoes.  But  it  was  at  precisely  this 
moment,  when  they  needed  him  most, 
that  Officer  Vincenzo,  whose  beat  be 
gan  at  the  city  hall  and  ended  at  the 
corner  where  the  broad  and  narrow 
ways  met,  came  up  to  them. 

Now,  the  city  had  done  many  evil 


64  FELICE 

things  and  had  put  many  bad  men  into 
office.  But  once  in  a  great  while  it  had 
done  something  good  and  had  given  an 
office  to  a  good  man.  This  latter  thing 
had  happened  when  it  made  Vincenzo 
a  policeman.  At  least  it  was  a  very 
good  thing  for  the  little  caravan,  for  he 
had  a  heart  almost  as  kind  as  that  of 
the  barber,  and  he  could  speak  Italian 
--  of  course,  with  such  a  name  as  that ! 
And  so,  after  they  had  told  him  those 
sayings  of  the  barber  and  showed  him 
the  letter,  he  laughed,  and  took  the 
baby  from  Felice,  whom  he  perceived 
to  be  very  tired,  and,  with  her  tremb 
ling  little  hand  in  his,  led  the  whole 
procession  along  his  beat,  to  the  very 
gates  of  the  city  hall.  There  he  gave 
them  to  another  officer,  who  took  them 
straight  to  the  great  magistrate  —  in  a 
car  which  sailed  up  into  the  air  many, 
many  stories  —  with  everybody  won 
dering  and  smiling  and  saying  the  very 
happiest  of  things,  and  wishing  them 
the  best  of  luck. 

Well,  I  think  that  when  very  many 


FELICE  65 

people  wish  one  the  best  of  luck  it  is 
bound  to  come. 

But,  first,  stop  and  think  of  that 
march  up  the  glittering  Broad  Street, 
in  charge  of  an  officer  of  the  city,  in 
full  uniform  of  blue  and  gold!  They 
had  heard  of  the  progresses  which 
kings  make  to  their  thrones,  and  it  was 
to  this  that  they,  in  their  beautiful, 
clean  little  minds,  likened  their  own. 


XI 


A  NEW  STOVE  COOKS  CLEAN,  EVEN  AS  A 
NEW    BROOM    SWEEPS 

BUT,  alas!  before  reaching  the  seat  of 
justice,  you  must  go  back  again  to  un 
derstand  what  that  cunning  plan  was 
that  Martinos  had  reserved  for  Floris 
and  himself. 

It  was  no  more  than  this:  He  had 
discovered  that  Floris  was  not  ill  at  all 
-  only  starved.  Do  you  remember 
that?  For  he  had  had  a  doctor  come 
in  to  look  at  her,  without  a  soul  know 
ing  that  he  was  a  doctor.  And  so  they 
had  fed  her  carefully,  but  kept  her  in 
bed,  all  in  aid  of  the  cunning  plan, 
which,  yet  again,  was  to  have  her  up 
and  dressed  like  a  royal  doll  when  they 
all  returned. 

So  the  little  caravan  was  scarce  gone 
on  its  great  errand,  when  Floris,  who 
was  now  let  into  the  secret,  was  up 


FELICE  67 

and  dressed.  And  they  took  another 
trip  down  the  South  Street  —  not  in 
Ardano's  hack  now --there  was  no 
time  for  ceremony.  Sometimes  Floris 
walked  —  sometimes  Martinos  carried 
her.  And  they  did  not  go  to  any 
second-hand  stores,  if  you  please,  but 
to  a  shop  which  sold  everything,  and 
where  everything  they  sold  was  new. 
And  here  they  bought  a  white  dress  for 
Floris  -  -  though  it  was  the  dead  of 
winter !-- with  some  silver  spangles 
and  other  things  (I  am  not  wise  in 
such  matters)  on  the  waist  —  and  white 
stockings  and  white  kid  slippers  -  -  re 
member  all  that — and  a  beautiful  cheese 
cloth  comfortable  for  the  horrid  bed 
where  they  were  all  to  sleep  a  little  longer. 

And  you  have  not  forgotten,  I  hope, 
the  wonderful  petticoat  of  pale  pink 
with  the  embroideries  in  blue  silk? 

After  that  was  a  ribbon  for  her  hair 
and  one  for  her  neck --the  one  blue, 
the  other  pink,  of  course.     This  was 
the    barber's    color-scheme   for   her  - 
white  and  blue  and  pink! 


68  FELICE 

Besides,  as  they  went  along  they 
chose  from  the  line  of  turkeys  and 
sausages  which  stretched  at  the  curb 
from  the  Broad  Street  to  the  Eighth 
Street,  on  things  like  clothes-horses,  a 
tremendous  one  which  the  dealer  as 
sured  them  weighed  fourteen  pounds! 
And  they  had  to  take  his  word  for  it. 
For  they  had  no  time  now  to  stop  to 
have  it  weighed.  Nor  did  they  care  if 
the  dealer  was  a  bit  enthusiastic  about 
the  weight  of  the  fowl. 

"And  Libera  Rosa  Rocco,  she  shall 
coo-ok  it!"  cried  the  happy  barber. 
"In  Rome  she  was  once  a  co-ok!" 

"On  the  new  stove!"  added  Floris. 
"And  I  will  help.  I  can  cook!" 

"What?"  shouted  the  barber.  "I 
do  not  believe  it!" 

But  of  course  he  did  believe  it. 

"Observe  this  parable:  The  new 
stove  is  like  the  new  broom  —  it  cook 
bu-lly." 

Just  then  they  passed  an  ice-cream 
shop.  And  though  it  was  the  dead  of 
winter,  they  went  in  and  ate  ice-cream! 


FELICE  69 

"Just  like  the  lovely  ladies  in  white 
do  at  the  parties!"  breathed  Floris. 

"Ah,  there  shall  be  a  lovely  lady  in 
white!"  said  Martinos.  "But  where 
have  you  seen  parties?" 

"Peeping  in  windows!"  laughed  the 
happy  little  girl. 

"No  nearer  than  that?" 

'That  is  very  near,  signore,  is  it 
not?"  laughed  the  happy  child.  "Have 
you  been  nearer  to  a  party?" 

"Si,  my  lovely  one.  In  them!  And 
so  shall  you  be!" 

And,  right  there,  again,  he  made  an 
other  plan,  of  which  you  are  to  hear  at 
the  proper  place. 

Well,  they  were  so  happy  that,  at  the 
Eighth  Street,  where  there  was  a  "col 
ored"  gospel- wagon  and  a  crowd  of 
happy  negroes,  they  stopped  and  joined 
in  the  singing  —  the  barber  with  a 
tenor  which  no  one  would  have  sus 
pected,  the  little  girl  with  a  thin  thread 
of  soprano  --  which  was  lost  to  all  but 
the  barber,  and,  perhaps,  the  great  God 
above.  "Nearer  my  God  to  Thee," 


70  FELICE 

was  what  they  sang.  And  when  the 
man  came  with  the  hat  the  barber 
showered  such  a  handful  of  pennies 
into  it  that  he  stopped  suddenly  and 
looked  up,  for  that  had  never  happened 
to  him  in  that  poor  street  before.  So 
that  he  said,  while  he  looked  kindly 
and  lifted  his  hand  in  blessing  upon 
the  barber, 

'Blessed  are  the  merciful,  for  they 
shall  obtain  mercy." 

This  was  a  strange  thing  to  say  to  a 
generous  giver  of  money,  but  the  barber 
fancied  that  it  meant  all  that  had  gone 
before. 

"He  knows,"  laughed  the  barber, 
"that  I  have  been  beast!  But  he  don't 
know  that  I  have  been  cure!" 

And  the  preacher,  with  a  solemn 
black  face,  pointed  him  out  as  one  to 
imitate,  as  he  led  Floris  embarrassed 
and  laughing  away. 

And  before  they  reached  home  it 
snowed  great  flakes,  through  which 
they  kicked  their  happy  way,  careless 
of  cold  and  wet,  knowing  that  these 


FELICE  71 

and  many  other  ills  were  no  longer  to 
be  feared  in  all  this  world!  And  for 
no  reason  except  that  they  were  happy 
-  very  happy.  For  they  were  both 
poor. 


XII 

FOR,    TO    STEAL    IS    NOT    TO    BE    THIEF 
-  ALWAYS 

Now,  quickly,  back  to  the  office  of 
the  great  magistrate,  where  the  caravan 
was  just  arriving  in  the  greatest  fear  of 
the  whole  progress,  as  you  will  remem 
ber,  I  hope. 

The  officer  who  guarded  the  door 
was  about  to  turn  them  aside,  when  a 
grave,  kindly  voice,  somewhere  within, 
said: 

"No,  Savin.  I  am  expectin'  some 
children  to-day.  They  are  late.  I 
have  waited  for  them."  Then  he  must 
have  seen  them.  For  the  voice  ad 
dressed  them:  "Is  that  you,  Felice? 
And  Issa  ?  And  Ricciotto  ?  And  Litle  ? 
I  have  been  waiting  for  you.  How  is 
Floris  to-day?"  -though  he  pro 
nounced  them  as  the  English  do.  And 
made  a  mess  of  it. 

72 


FELICE  73 

Try  to  fancy  the  effect  of  that  upon 
the  weary,  frightened  little  caravan! 
To  have  been  expected !  To  have  been 
waited  for!  By  this  great  man  in  this 
splendid  palace  -  -  where  they  had  al 
ready  seen  more  wonders  than  in  all 
their  small  lives  before!  And  then  to 
hear  one's  first  name  spoken  in  a  big; 
kind  voice  —  all  of  their  names  ?  And, 
last  and  most,  to  have  the  great  magis 
trate  leave  his  seat  behind  the  grim 
bench  of  justice  and  come  forth  and 
take  them  by  the  hand  and  lead  them 
in,  while  he  inquired  about  Floris.  Oh, 
Avhat  a  good,  good  country  it  was !  And 
what  beautiful,  beautiful  people!  Did 
every  one  have  a  kind  voice  and  a  big 
warm  hand?  It  was  not  so  even  in 
Italy.  Do  you  wonder  that  the  little 
mother  broke  down  and  cried  ?  And 
that  all  the  others  cried  with  her? 
And  that  the  great  magistrate  was  so 
flustered  that  he  could  only  say: 

'There,  there!  Don't  cry;  I  can't 
stand  that.  It  will  be  all  right.  Do 
you  hear?  It  will  be  all  right." 


74  FELICE 

AYhile  he  dabbed  at  his  blinking  eyes 
with  his  handkerchief,  and  kept  his 
face  turned  away  from  the  onlookers 
at  the  seat  of  justice.  For  they  had 
laughed  at  him  a  little  —  the  loafers  in 
the  court.  He  used  his  handkerchief 
so  seldom  for  crying  that  it  was  a  mo 
ment  before  he  thought  of  it.  And 
then  it  was  a  tear  which  hastened  him. 
And,  after  all,  the  tear  beat  the  hand 
kerchief.  For  he  had  to  search  in  all 
his  pockets  before  he  found  it.  And 
by  that  time  the  tear  had  fallen  on  his 
desk. 

The  little  mother  told  to  the  magis 
trate,  as  if  she  were  before  some  great 
court  sitting  in  bane,  the  simple  story 
of  their  loneliness  since  the  mother  had 
gone  to  the  undiscovered  country,  and 
the  father  to  his  prison,  and  then  of  the 
illness  and  the  hunger,  and,  quite  last, 
of  the  sleepless  waiting  through  that 
first  night.  Baldi,  the  interpreter,  had 
to  blow  his  nose  furiously  to  keep  his 
eyes  from  crying. 

And  it  makes  me  very  happy  to  re- 


FELICE  75 

late  that  this  small  magistrate -- who 
had  yet  been  inscrutably  intrusted  with 
power  over  human  liberty  -  -  was  both 
gentle  and  just,  and  that  he  stopped 
them  when  his  own  voice  began  to 
grow  husky,  and  said  to  those  who 
stood  curiously  by, 

"Boys,  it  is  a  true  bill." 

And  when  they  said  nothing,  he 
asked, 

"Isn't  it?" 

The  only  way  they  answered  was  to, 
one  after  another,  fish  out  of  their 
pockets  such  moneys  as  each  could 
spare,  and  pass  them  to  the  good  mag 
istrate,  whence  they  would  find  their 
way,  much  augmented,  to  the  place 
where  they  would  do  the  most  good. 


XIII 

SOME    MISTAKE 

'THERE'S  some  mistake  about  those 
thirty  days,  kiddies,"  said  the  magis 
trate,  "thanks  to  that  fool  baker.  He 
hasn't  been  tried  yet.  I  had  to  hold 
him  for  trial.  But  I  could  have  dis 
charged  him --if  you  had  only  come 
earlier.  But  you  shall  have  him  back 
or  I'll  eat  my  hat!" 

Which  gibberish  Baldi  tried  to  trans 
late.  But,  they  only  learned  that  there 
was  some  mistake. 

"But  now  he's  got  to  go  through  the 
Q.  S." 

Again,  this  did  not  penetrate  them. 
They  looked  about  hopelessly  for  their 
father. 

"He's  not  here,  you  know,  kiddies," 
said  the  magistrate,  "but  —  er -- a - 
resting  -  -  that's     it  -  -  resting!       Why 
don't  you  help,  Baldi!     Yes,  resting  in 

76 


FELICE  77 

a  fine  big  —  er  —  club  house  —  down 
town --where  he  has  plenty  to  eat  - 
and  is  hap  --happy.     Di  —  don't  cry! 
For  heaven's  sake  don't  cry!" 

This  being  translated  assuaged  their 
disappointment.  It  is  true  that  it  was 
early  in  the  day,  and  that  there  would 
be  many  hours  to  wait,  perhaps,  before 
it  could  be  accomplished.  But  the 
man  of  the  law  had  said  that  he  would 
eat  his  hat  if  he  did  not  accomplish  it; 
and,  as  they  looked  at  the  hat  neatly 
perched  on  the  top  of  his  head,  they 
confessed,  that,  while  it  was  a  very 
shiny  thing,  yet  —  certainly  no  one  — 
no  one  in  the  world  would  wish  it  in 
his  stomach.  So  with  oriental  patience 
they  waited. 

"Say,  Harrington,"  said  the  magis 
trate,  "did  you  see  that  Carron  put  the 
case  of  the  Commonwealth  against 
Piccioli  on  the  Quarter  Session  list 
for  to-day?" 

'Yes,  sir,"  said  Harrington. 

The  magistrate  turned  to  the  cara 
van: 


78  FELICE 

"  All  right  —  all  right,  kiddies !  He'll 
be  in  the  Q.  S.  to-day,  and  I'll  go  with 
you  there  and  see  that  he  is  acquitted. 
Yessir!  Eat  my  hat  if  I  don't!  Oh 
the  judge  and  I  are  the  best  of  friends 
-now  don't  cry  —  look  out!  Don't 
cry!  I'm  not  a  Supreme  Court  Justice, 
but  if  I  can't  fix  a  little  thing  like  this, 
for  nice  little  people  like  you,  I'd  better 
get  out  of  my  job,  had  n't  I  ?" 

Who  of  the  children  could  have 
hazarded  a  word  to  this. 

"But  had  n't  I?"  insisted  the 
doughty  Irishman,  taking  joy  in  the 
great  mysterious  eyes  they  turned  upon 
him  without  understanding!  "Say, 
had  n't  I  better  take  the  tenth  ward  out 
of  my  vest  pocket  and  hand  it  along 
to  the  Coachman's  and  Footman's 
Association  for  the  Purification  of  Poli 
tics  ?  --  If  I  can't  ?  What  do  you  sup 
pose  this  land  of  the  Free  and  Home 
of  the  Brave  is  for?  Say,  had  n't  I?" 

And,  Felice,  more  out  of  terror  than 
anything  else  answered: 

"Si,   eccellenza!" 


FELICE  79 

The    Irishman    laughed    loud    and 
long. 

;'The  first  word  since  you  came!  and 
1  don't  know  what  it  is!" 

And  they  didn't  cry  -  -  much  as  they 
wanted  to --because  the  magistrate 
laughed  into  the  eyes  which  would  have 
filled  with  tears,  and  held  all  of  their 
hands  at  once  in  his  great  ones,  crush 
ing  them  together  until  it  hurt  a  little 
-  not  enough  to  hurt  really. 

'You  see,  I  had  a  little  girl,  myself," 
said  the  magistrate.  "Understand?" 
But  they  did  not  and  he  repeated  it  in 
French.  "  J'ai  avez  un  petite  fille  - 
no?"  That  was  as  bad.  Then  in  Ger 
man.  "  Ich  habe  un  Madschen  —  kleine 
Madschen  -  -  nix  ?  Well  Baldi  what 
are  you  here  for.  Tell  'em  I  speak 
English  not  Italian.  I  had  a  little  girl 
about  like  this  one!  Say  I  HAD  her 


The  magistrate  turned  and  blew  his 
nose. 

"And  Baldi,  be  careful.  Don't  say 
prison.  Lie  like  I  did.  Call  it  a  club!" 


80  FELICE 

This  the  officer  of  the  law  did.  And, 
there  was  a  small  room  back  of  the 
magistrate's  office,  where  he  sent  them 
to  wait  while  he  disposed  of  the  prison 
ers  whom  he  knew  would  presently  be 
brought  in,  and,  though  they  had 
candy  to  eat,  and  a  game  called  par- 
chesi  to  play,  they  were  not  as  happy 
as  they  ought  to  have  been. 

Of  course,  this  ruddy  magistrate, 
with  his  many  r's  and  his  adjuration 
concerning  his  hat,  was  very  well. 
But,  any  one  could  tell  that  he  was  not 
of  Italy  —  as  was  the  magnificent  bar 
ber.  After  a  hurried  conference  in  a 
corner,  so  desperate  seemed  their  need, 
Felice  decided  to  take  the  caravan  and 
fetch  him.  She  was  stealthily  on  her 
way  out  when  the  magistrate  detected 
her. 

"II  barbiere"  began  Felice,  by  way 
of  excuse  for  what  seemed  treason. 

"Barber?"  cried  the  ruddy  judge! 
"What?  Do  you  need  a  shave?" 

And,  Felice,  not  understanding,  but, 
doing  what  the  humble  do,  thought  to 


FELICE  81 

placate  fate  by  weak  complaisance,  and 
nodded  her  head,  whereat  all  the  ha 
bitues  laughed  to  her  extreme  distress. 
But,  Baldi  explained  to  the  magistrate, 

"Martinos,  of  the  Tonsorielle  of  the 
Green  Moon  —  a  barber-shop,  in  Eng 
lish --is  a  bigger  man  in  Little  Italy 
than  you  are  here.  Than  any  one  ex 
cept  their  own  king  and  our  president. 
He  can  do  anything  —  in  their  opinion. 
They  want  him." 

"Well,  God  bless  their  dear  little 
hearts,"  cried  the  man  of  law,  "so  they 
shall!  Here  Doran  go.  And,  if  he 
hesitates  an  instant  arrest  him  and 
bring  him  before  me!" 

"Hesitate!"  laughed  Baldi.  "Wait!" 

So  Doran,  with  instructions  from 
Baldi  went  to  Little  Italy  for  Martinos, 
while  Magistrate  James  Ryan  went  on 
with  his  hearings. 


XIV 

BUT  THE  TONSORIELLE  OF  THE  GREEN 
MOON  WAS  LOCKED! 

BUT  the  barber  could  not  be  found. 
His  shop  was  securely  locked.  Floris 
was  also  gone!  Think  of  such  a  situa 
tion  for  the  little  mind  already  loaded 
with  woe!  But,  whatever  may  have 
gone  on  in  the  inside  of  Felice,  on  the 
outside  she  was  a  Spartan.  This  was 
her  first  and  greatest  duty.  When  she 
had  her  father  safe,  then,  she  would 
take  up  this  other  —  with  the  Blessed 
Virgin  Herself,  if  the  barber  were  un 
true!  So  they  made  another  journey 
with  Doran,  never  releasing  their  hands 
from  each  other,  in  that  same  vast 
palace,  to  a  place  called  The  Court  of 
Quarter  Sessions  of  the  Peace  —  the 
same  which  the  ruddy  magistrate  had 
dubbed  "The  Q.  S." 

And,  presently,  they  stood  in  a  great 


FELICE  83 

room,  very  grand  in  gilt  and  marbles, 
with  a  gallery  about  it,  and  a  terrible 
clock  which  struck  the  hours  on  an  an 
vil.  And  there  were  many  officers  in 
blue  and  brass  and  an  awesome  air 
\vhich  chilled  them  and  made  them 
wrish  for  the  sun  of  Little  Italy,  wrhich 
they  sometimes  before  had  found  too 
wrarm. 

Presently,  a  nice  little  man,  with 
white  hair  and  pink  cheeks,  who  sat 
upon  a  marble  platform,  dressed  in  a 
black  silk  gown,  put  on  his  long  dis 
tance  glasses  and  looked  at  them.  He 
smiled,  too,  and  they  were  not  a  little 
surprised  to  hear  —  from  Doran  --  that 
he  was  the  judge  who  killed  people. 

"He's  a  good  friend  of  Ryan's,"  con 
fided  the  officer,  and  perhaps  it  was 
just  as  well  that  they  never  understood 
that  "Ryan"  was  the  magistrate, 
"though  the  Districk  Attorney  -  "  who 
now  entered  and  took  his  seat  below 
the  judge  -  "  hates  um!  Howiver,  they 
both  come  from  our  ward,  the  good 
old  Tenth,  and  you  don't  need  to  care! 


84  FELICE 

Jim  won't  have  to  eat  his  hat  -  "  and, 
again,  perhaps  it  was  as  well  that  they 
never  knew  that  "Jim"  was  the  all- 
powerful  magistrate.  But  it  was  long 
they  had  to  wait.  And,  many  wonders 
saw  the  little  people  while  they  waited, 
which  they  could  not  understand. 

First  was  that  ominous  thing  in  the 
right-hand  corner.  Superficially,  it  was 
only  a  great,  dull,  dirt-colored  curtain, 
which  seemed  to  cover  something  with 
vast  ribs.  But,  it  was  now  and  then 
moved  by  things  within !  And,  present 
ly,  they  knew  that  it  was  human  hands 
which  moved  the  curtain.  For,  one  ap 
peared  at  the  bottom.  It  was  gnarled 
and  grimy  and,  as  it  appeared,  one  of 
the  several  officers  stationed  about  the 
mysterious  curtain,  struck  it  with  his 
stick  and  it  was  quickly  withdrawn  to 
the  sound  of  pain  inside.  After  that  all 
was  quiet.  But  what  was  it  ? 

Again,  in  the  very  center  of  the  grand 
room,  stood  a  sordid  iron  cage  with  a 
locked  door,  though  it  was  quite  empty, 
and,  though,  any  animal  which  might 


FELICE  85 

be  confined  there  (and  the  children 
could  not  fancy  for  what  purpose  an 
animal  might  be  confined  there)  could 
easily  leap  over  the  top  which  was  quite 
open. 

"For  creature  which  cannot  leap," 
explained  Felice,  wisely,  "therefore, 
there  must  be  creatures  here  which  are 
not  dangerous  to  the  peoples,  though 
inside  are  chains  to,  perhaps,  fasten 
the  feet  of  the  creature." 

But,  why  should  there  be  cages  for 
creatures  here  ?  There  was  too  much 
terror  lurking  about  to  think  of  it  as  a 
place  of  amusement. 

Fancy  all  these  mysteries  and  not  a 
word  to  explain  them! 

Presently,  a  great  bell,  far  up  some 
where,  boomed  ten  slow  strokes.  The 
smith  struck  the  anvil  in  the  court-room 
ten  smart  blows  and  an  officer  rose  and 
cried  out: 

"  Oyez  —  oyez  -  -  oyez !  All  manner 
of  men  who  stand  bound  by  recog 
nizance,  or  otherwise,  to  trial  in  this 
honorable  court,  appear  now  that  ye 


86  FELICE 

may  be  heard,  and  may  God  save  the 
Commonwealth  and  this  honorable 
Court  of  the  Quarter  Sessions  of  the 
Peace,  holden  here  this  day!" 

Now,  so  suddenly  that  the  children 
were  caught  in  a  wide  suspiration,  that 
dun  curtain  was  drawn  aside  and  the 
ribs  were  found  to  be  the  bars  of  a  great 
cage,  filled  with  people  —  men,  women, 
and  children. 

And,  among  them  they  saw  their 
father.  Do  you  wonder  that  three 
little  hearts  stopped  at  once  ?  Only, 
at  that  moment,  they  found  all  their 
hands  in  those  of  the  good  magistrate 
—  or  heaven  knows  what  might  have 
happened. 

"No,  no,  no!  No  tears.  You  know 
how  I  hate  um!  Don't  look  that  way. 
There'll  be  a  different  song,  presently, 
or  I'll  eat  my  hat!  Laugh  and  the 
world  laughs  with  you.  Weep  and  you 
weep  alone!  Hanged  if  you  don't." 

And,  in  fact,  the  good  magistrate  so 
placed  himself  that  they  could  not  look 
save  through  him,  which  was  difficult. 


XV 

THERE    IS   NO   JOY    IN   THE   Q.    S. 

WHEN  one  comes  to  know  the  Court 
of  Quarter  Sessions  of  The  Common 
wealth's  Peace,  he  will  agree  that 
there  may  be  joy  anywhere  else  on 
earth  but  here.  For,  here,  tragedy  is 
enacted  day  after  day.  And,  to  them 
that  administer  the  tragedy,  so  must  it 
be  an  old  song,  that  they  can  sleep  well 
at  night  —  after  having  taken  a  mother 
from  her  children  —  a  husband  from  a 
wife  —  a  brother  who  has  sinned  from 
a  sister  who  has  never  sinned.  For  the 
thing  called  justice  is  often  accident, 
and  judges  and  juries  are  but  men  who 
err  —  sometimes  mistaking  law  for  jus 
tice.  And,  sometimes,  men  are  tired, 
or  hungry,  or  vexed,  and  it  is  pitiful 
that  one's  life  or  liberty  should  depend, 
even  a  little  upon  weariness,  temper,  a 
dinner,  or  a  theater-party.  Whose  per- 

87 


88  FELICE 

ception  of  right  and  wrong  is  not  dulled 
by  hunger  or  anger?  Is  any  one  so 
wise  as  to  be  above  this  ?  Or  so  strong  ? 
Be  sure  that  justice  has  its  accidents. 
So  that  one  is  prone,  sometimes,  to 
believe  that  nothing  is  so  often  unjust 
as  justice,  that  nothing  errs  so  often  as 
that  thing  which  ought  never  to  err. 
Of  course,  it  is  heinous  to  be  late  at  a 
dinner.  But  it  would  be  sad  if  some 
one  had  to  spend  ten  years  in  jail  be 
cause  a  judge  was  in  danger  of  it. 

Now  the  children  saw  some  of  them 
in  the  great  cage,  with  blanched  faces, 
led  away  at  a  mere  word  from  the  little 
pink  faced  man  on  the  bench.  Indeed, 
some  of  them  went  to  execution  —  they 
had  no  doubt  —  at  a  bare  nod  from 
him.  And  the  good  magistrate  who 
continued  to  hold  their  hands,  and  to 
keep  between  them  and  their  father, 
seemed  more  and  more  distrait,  as  this 
went  on,  and  less  sure,  and,  they  noted 
that  he  said  nothing  more  about  the 
hat.  This  produced,  in  their  sensitive 


FELICE  89 

and  speechless  little  minds,  that  bit  of 
fear  which  so  easily  grows  to  panic. 
They  were  not  certain  now.  No  one  was ! 

One  who  did  not  go  to  his  doom  wil 
lingly  was  dragged  out,  certain  women 
in  black  shrieking  and  following  him, 
while  there  was  drear  wailing  in  the 
corridor  without.  They  saw  the  hands 
of  women  torn  —  as  gently  as  the  offi 
cers  could  do  it  —  from  men  who  were 
taken  away.  And,  one  woman  stood 
up --up  in  the  midst  of  the  court - 
and  asked  what  she  and  her  little  baby 
-  still  at  her  breast  -  -  were  to  do  for 
food,  after  they  had  taken  her  man 
away!  Would  the  little  man  on  the 
bench  see  that  they  got  food?  Oh  it 
was  right  enough  to  punish  him  —  a 
little  —  for  beating  them  -  -  yes !  But 
they  were  also  punishing  the  mother 
and  the  baby  anew.  They  would  risk 
the  beating  if  -  -  Where  was  food  to 
come  from  ? 

"  Where  does  he  go  ?"  whispered  Issa. 

'To  the  place  of  killing,"  answered 
the  wise  Felice,  stoically. 


90  FELICE 

Then,  after  a  long  time: 

"Is  he  dead  now?"  asked  Issa. 

Only  once  did  the  small  pink  judge 
smile: 

A  malefactor,  it  seemed,  had,  accord 
ing  to  the  accusation,  feloniously  stuffed 
a  ballot  box  --  whatever  that  may  have 
been  —  and,  according  to  himself,  he 
was  the  victim  of  the  opposing  party  in 
the  politics  of  his  ward.  He,  therefore, 
demanded  a  vindication.  This  he  fi 
nally  got,  after  two  lawyers  had  come  to 
blows.  The  person  who  had  been  a 
malefactor  a  moment  before  was  the  mo 
ment  after,  an  injured,  but  vindicated 
citizen.  The  district  attorney  extended 
his  hand  in  congratulation.  They  were 
of  the  same  party.  The  small  judge, 
who  was  of  a  different  party,  also  ex 
tended  his  hand  over  the  marble  bench. 

"It  is  a  splendid  vindication!"  said 
the  late  malefactor. 

"Splendid,"  agreed  the  judge. 
"Don't  do  it  again." 

It  was  then  he  smiled. 


XVI 

THE    COMMONWEALTH    VS.    PICCIOLI 

THEN,  again,  an  officer  stood  up  in 
the  grand  court  and  cried  aloud: 

:'The  Commonwealth  against  Pic- 
cioli!"  pronouncing  it  so  that  Felice 
gasped : 

"Di—  did  he  say  -  -  Piccioli  ?  " 

'Yes,"  said  the  good  magistrate,  a 
bit  uncertainly,  touching  some  of  the 
nap  on  his  hat  to  place,  but  also  pres 
sing  all  the  small  hands  he  could  gather, 
together.  "Don't  be  afraid." 

And,  the  district  attorney  commanded 
brusquely: 

"Put  Piccioli  in  the  small  dock!" 

And,  almost  before  it  was  com 
manded,  it  was  done.  Their  father 
was  taken  from  the  great  cage  and  put 
into  the  small  one  where  they  supposed 
the  animals  were  chained! 

It  seemed  monstrous  to  their  little 
01 


92  FELICE 

senses  that  no  one  even  looked  or  cared, 
and  that  the  whispering  and  laughter 
went  on.  Their  father  was  bowed  in 
such  shame  that  he  saw  not  even  them. 

But  before  he  quite  reached  the  small 
dock,  Felice,  struggling  between  great 
terror  and  greater  love,  and  against  the 
good  magistrate,  who  hated  scenes,  flew 
to  her  father  and  grasping  his  hands 
sobbed,  just  once: 

"Padre  mio!" 

The  others  had  broken  away  from 
the  magistrate,  too,  and  when  Piccioli 
looked  up,  there  were  all  his  little  chil 
dren  —  save  Floris.  But  he  could  not 
touch  them,  for  his  hands  were  chained. 
Nor  could  he  say  a  word,  for  his  lips 
and  throat  were  dry,  but  he  could  stoop 
and  put  his  face  to  the  face  of  each  - 
before  the  district  attorney  could  shout 
to  the  officers,  who  had  turned  their 
faces  away,  to  do  their  duty.  Whereat, 
the  officers  parted  them,  and  Piccioli 
went  on  his  way  to  the  small  dock, 
while  the  children  were,  again,  herded 
together  by  the  good  magistrate  and 


FELICE  93 

Doran,  with  only  those  two  words  said 
at  this  awful  moment : 

"Padre,  mio!" 

For,  of  course,  their  little  lips  and 
throats  were,  also,  too  dry  for  any  lu 
brication  but  tears,  and  these  were  put 
out  of  the  question  by  the  terrors. 

So  the  gate  of  that  iron  cage  they 
had  thought  was  for  animals  clanged 
shut  upon  their  own  father,  with  a 
sound  they  will  never  forget.  He  was 
bidden  to  face  the  court,  so  that  it 
seemed  to  the  children,  for  the  first 
time,  and  at  such  an  awful  moment, 
that  their  father  had  turned  his  back 
upon  them! 

And  the  barber  had  not  come! 

And  soon,  perhaps,  it  would  be  too 
late! 

"Is  the  place  of  killing  near?"  asked 
Litle  of  Felice. 

But  nothing  could  long  keep  the 
little  caravan  from  their  father,  since 
he  was  so  soon  to  be  killed.  If  it  must 
be  they  would  die  too.  One  by  one 
they  crept  to  the  terrible  cage  and 


94  FELICE 

slipped  their  tiny  hands  through  its 
meshes  and  into  those  of  their  father. 
Not  a  word  did  they  say,  only  to  touch 
the  dear  body  of  him!  The  wonderful 
touches  of  children!  You  may  be  sure 
there  were  tears  —  and  not  all  between 
the  father  and  his  children. 

And  the  vigilant  officers  saw  them 
and  looked  away.  The  judge  on  the 
bench  saw  them  —  and  put  on  his  long 
distance  glasses  and  blew  his  nose. 
Alas,  the  district  attorney  saw  them, 
too,  and  cried  to  the  officers: 

"Take  those  children  away!" 

But  the  court  said: 

"Let  them  alone!" 

And  the  officers  obeyed  the  court  — 
very  willingly  indeed. 

However,  while  these  things  wrere 
going  on  at  the  small  dock,  a  jury  was 
swearing  to  "  Well  and  truly  try,  and  a 
true  deliverance  make,  between  the 
Commonwealth  of  Pennsylvania,  and 
the  prisoner,  \vhom  you  will  have  in 
charge,  so  help  you  God!" 

It  was  at  this  point  that  the  good 


FELICE  95 

magistrate  had  the  courage  to  approach 
the  court,  at  side-bar,  and  plead  for 
the  children -- rather  than  the  father. 
What  he  said,  exactly,  no  one  could 
hear,  for  he  seemed  not  as  brave  here 
as  in  his  own  little  court,  and  he  spoke 
in  a  low  tone.  But,  I  think,  it  was  the 
story  I  have  told  you.  And  the  pink 
judge  smiled  and  nodded,  as  if  saying 
Yes,  yes,  all  will  be  well!  giving  the 
children  a  moment's  cheer. 

"Telling  judge  about  the  hat,"  ex 
plained  Felice,  wisely,  to  the  rest  of  the 
children.  "So  he  do  not  eat  it." 

The  two  now  called  the  district  at 
torney  into  conference,  and,  on  the 
instant,  the  hopes  of  the  children  fell. 
He  shook  his  head  with  great  determi 
nation  from  the  first,  and  it  was  plain 
that  that  enmity  which  the  magistrate 
had  spoken  of  was  a  fact.  Indeed,  he 
let  his  voice  rise  angrily,  so  that  every 
body  in  the  room  could  hear  what  he 
said. 

"If  the  court  please,  Piccioli  must 
go  to  trial,  and  I  propose  to  try  this  case 


96  FELICE 

publicly,  with  this  jury  in  the  usual 
way,  and  not  at  side-bar.  I  know 
nothing  but  law  here!" 

"Did  ye  say  ye  know  nothin'  of  law 
here?"  asked  the  good  magistrate  bel 
ligerently. 

"Oh,  a  trifle  of  humanity,"  I  hope, 
said  the  judge  between  them. 

''That  is  the  province  of  the  Board 
of  Pardons,"  said  the  district  attorney. 

"Did  you  see,  just  now,  Mr.  District 
Attorney,  the  meeting  between  those 
children  and  their  father?" 

"I  did,"  answered  the  officer  of  the 
law,  firmly.  'To  create  sympathy." 

"See  them  creep  to  touch  him?" 

'Yes.  I  have  children  of  my  own," 
said  the  lawyer.  "I  don't  allow  that." 

"I  pity  'em!"  snapped  Ryan. 

"  Did  you  observe  the  politician  who 
got  his  'vindication'  just  now?"  the 
judge  smiled  on. 

"That  was  the  righteous  verdict  of 
a  jury  of  his  peers,  sir,"  answered  the 
district  attorney.  ''  We  are  obliged  to 
heed  it." 


FELICE  97 

"  Leavin'out '  peers '  and  'righteous,' ' 
said  Ryan. 

:<  What  was  your  verdict?"  asked  the 
judge,  smiling. 

"As  your  Honor  well  knows,"  said 
the  officer,  "it  is  no  part  of  my  duty  to 
render  verdicts.  I  am  here  to  try  cases 
according  to  the  evidence." 

"I  know,"  persisted  the  judge,  pleas 
antly,  "but  our  minds  do  render  ver 
dicts,  whether  we  will  it  so  or  not. 
Inside  there  is  something  which  says 
after  every  verdict  That  was  right  - 
or  That  was  wrong  —  and  we  can't 
help  its  saying  so.  I  suppose  God 
meant  it  to  be  that  way.  I  have  an 
opinion  besides  my  judicial  one  upon 
the  justice  of  every  verdict  rendered 
here,  and,  sometimes,  it  does  not  agree 
at  all  with  the  verdict  of  the  jury. 
Have  n't  you  ?  If  not,  you  are  a 
strange  prosecuting  officer." 

"Perhaps  I  have,"  admitted  the 
prosecutor. 

"  And,  sometimes  justice  shies  a  bit  ?  " 
smiled  the  judge. 


98  FELICE 

"Perhaps!" 

'You  bet!"  said  the  magistrate. 

"Well,"  said  the  judge,  "if  justice 
must  shy  sometimes,  I  hope  you  will 
permit  her  to  shy  now!" 

"I  insist,  sir,  with,  of  course,  due 
submission  to  the  court,  that  this  case 
must  pursue  the  usual  course.  If  there 
is  reason  for  a  pardon,  after  I  have 
convicted  the  man,  let  it  be  properly 
submitted  and  I  will  not  oppose  it." 

"Ah,"  sighed  the  judge,  "we  both 
know  how  easy  a  prison  door  closes 
and  how  hard  it  opens!  Jim  -  '  to 
the  good  magistrate—  "  my  savage  pros 
ecuting  officer  will  not  allow  me  any 
mercy  to-day." 

But,  I  am  happy  to  say,  that  as 
Ryan  left  the  bar,  the  judge  winked, 
and  the  grasp  of  his  hand  said  that,  at 
least,  the  end  was  not  yet. 


XVII 

THE    STRANGE    WORKING    OF    THE    CON 
SCIENCE    OF   THE    COURT 

"Call  those  children  to  the  stand," 
commanded  the  court,  to  an  officer  in 
blue  and  brass. 

"I  do  not  wish  to  open  my  case  in 
that  way,"  objected  the  prosecutor. 

"The  court  is  informing  its  con 
science,"  smiled  the  judge.  "It  is  not 
yet  your  case." 

So,  Felice,  with  Riccioto  in  her  arms 
was  led  to  the  witness-stand,  pale  and 
great  eyed,  as  if  she  were  going  to  exe 
cution.  It  was  a  wide  marble  place, 
with  a  great  chair,  into  which  Felice 
climbed  with  swimming  head. 

"Administer  the  oath,"  said  the  dis 
trict  attorney  to  the  officer  who  stood 

by- 

"No,"  smiled  the  judge,  "she  will 
tell  me  more  of  what  I  want  to  know  if 

99 


100  FELICE 

she  is  not  more  frightened.  You  need 
not  listen  to  this,"  he  said  to  the  jury. 
"It  is  not  evidence." 

But,  it  is  quite  certain  that,  all  the 
more  for  that  saying,  the  jury  would 
listen,  as  well  as  for  that  smile  the  judge 
sent  with  it. 

"Will  you  tell  the  truth,  little  girl?" 
the  district  attorney  asked. 

After  Baldi  had  translated  this  Felice 
answered  quite  simply  that  she  would. 

"What  is  your  name?"  asked  the 
judge. 

"Felice,"  answered  the  child. 

"Felice  -  -  Felice!"  repeated  the 
judge.  "They  give  their  children 
pretty  names,  don't  they  Mr.  Prose 
cutor?  What  are  your  children's 
names  ?" 

"John,  Jane,  Sarah!"  said  the  officer 
between  his  teeth. 

"Ah,"  the  judge  smiled  on.  Then 
to  the  child:  "Do  you  know  this  man 
in  the  dock?" 

Felice  wondered  upon  the  judge  for 
a  moment.  Then: 


FELICE  101 

"He  is  my  father"  -as  if  that  told 
it  all. 

"Do  you  love  him?" 

This,  too,  seemed  so  utterly  super 
fluous!  So  "out  of  court." 

'Yes  —  certainly." 

"Is  he  kind  to  you?" 

"Kind?" 

Such  questions! 

"Certainly.  When  both  are  hungry 
he  stays  hungry  and  we  eat --when 
there  is  not  enough." 

"Where  is  your  mother?" 

It  was  a  long  time  before  the  answer 
to  that  came.  Certainly  every  one 
must  know  that  she  was  in  heaven  with 
the  holy  Virgin  herself.  She  looked 
upward,  then  answrered,  as  if  they  ought 
to  know  all  the  rest: 

"Dead." 

And,  the  somber  little  eyes  went  from 
the  ruddy  face  on  the  bench  to  the  dark 
one  in  the  dock,  and  a  tear  stole  down 
each  cheek  unconcealed. 

"  Dead  -  -  Eccellenza." 

And,  thereupon,  a  great  silence  fell  in 


102  FELICE 

that  court.  For  the  thing  most  won 
derful  in  the  earth  had  happened.  The 
word,  the  tear  of  a  child,  had  touched 
all  hearts.  There  is  a  thing  which  is 
for  the  ignorant  and  intelligent  alike. 
A  something  no  one  has  yet  measured 
or  described,  and  it  was  this  the  little 
child  in  one  word  and  one  look  and  one 
tear  had  accomplished. 

And,  somehow,  Issa  broke  away 
from  the  good  magistrate  (perhaps  he 
designed  it  so)  and  crept,  taking  her 
life  in  her  hand,  as  she  supposed,  on, 
up  to  the  marble  place  where  Felice 
stood,  her  head  rising  just  above  its 
parapet,  and  caught,  from  behind,  her 
hand,  and  held  it  very  tight.  And, 
that  made  Felice  much  more  brave. 
And  the  rest,  seeing  this,  and  being  en 
couraged  by  it,  stole,  also,  to  the  wit 
ness-stand.  But  the  officers  who  had 
not  seen  —  or  pretended  they  had  not 
-  the  first  invasion  of  the  sacred  place, 
were  obliged  to  take  notice  of  and  stop 
this  hegira.  For  who  had  ever  in  that 
grim  court,  seen  a  family  group  perched 


FELICE  103 

in  and  about  the  place  whence  truth 
was  supposed  to  radiate  ?  The  officers 
started  officially  forward  to  check  the 
invasion  and  clear  the  place  of  wit 
nesses. 

But  the  pink  judge  put  up  a  sudden 
angry  hand,  and  they  gladly  retreated. 
For,  even  if  there  had  been  nothing  else 
—  to  these  officers  who  did  the  same 
thing  in  the  same  way  every  day  - 
here  was  something  new  in  their  lives! 
So,  here  they  were  -  -  the  four  of  them, 
in  the  witness-stand,  hand  tightly  in 
hand  once  more,  determined  to  die  to 
gether  rather  than  part.  And,  there 
was  their  father  in  the  cage  they  had 
thought  was  for  the  animals,  too  des 
perately  beleaguered  to  be  saved,  yet 
smiling  up  at  them,  as  if  indeed  some 
animal  had  suddenly  seen  its  offspring 
safe,  even  though  he  must  die.  It 
makes  me  very  happy  to  say  that  the 
tired  little  judge,  looking  from  one  to 
the  other,  seemed  to  undertsand  both. 
And  it  all  made  him  ask  questions 
which  had  nothing  to  do  with  the  case 


104  FELICE 

or  the  law  -  -  which  may  seem  strange 
to  you  from  one  who  really  adored  the 
law.  But  perhaps,  you  have  never 
known  a  Felice,  or  an  Issa,  or  a  Litle, 
or  a  Ricciotto  ? 

"Where  did  you  live  —  in  Italy?" 
asked  the  judge. 

"First,  Frienze,  then  Napoli,"  an 
swered  Felice. 

"Always  there  is  sun  there,"  added 
Issa. 

"  And  bread,"  still  further  piped  Litle. 

'Yes,  yes,"  said  the  judge  encourag 
ingly.  "  Of  course.  That  is  what  little 
Italians  need  —  sun,  sun,  bread,  bread! 
And  how  old  are  you  —  each?" 

They  told  him,  with  great  particular 
ity  as  to  years  and  months  and  weeks 
and  days. 

"  And  that  mother  who  is  dead  — 
when  did  she  die?" 

They  told  him  this  —  all  of  them 
together. 

"And,"  alleged  Issa,  "she  is  in 
heaven  at  the  right  hand  of  the  blessed 
Virgin,  waiting  for  us!" 


FELICE  105 

"We  shall  go  there,"  alleged  Litle, 
confidently. 

'Your  father  —  does  he  work?" 

They  answered  cheerfully  that  he 
did  not. 

"That  is  bad  — bad,"  said  the  good 
judge.  "Every  one  should  work  — 
and  each  day.  That  is  good  for 
every  body  -  -  people  should  work. 
When  they  do  not  they  are  sure  to 
get  into  mischief  just  as  your  father 
did." 

They  explained  that  he  dare  not 
work. 

"  What,  dare  not  work ! "  The  judge 
had  never  heard  of  such  a  thing. 

"  No  one  will  gfve  him  the  work,  and 
if  they  do  - 

"But  why --will  no  one  give  him 
the  work  ?  Does  he  work  so  badly  or 
has  he  such  habits  that  no  one  will 
trust  him  with  work?" 

This  was  all  the  judge  knew  of 
work. 

'The      union,"     explained     Felice, 
briefly. 


106  FELICE 

"The  union?"  questioned  the  judge 
dully.  "What  has  that  got  to  do  with 
his  work?" 

"He  do  not  belong,"  said  the  child. 

"Oh!  But  why  doesn't  he  be 
long?" 

"Has  not  the  silver,"  said  the  child. 
"He   buy   us   food   with   the   silver  - 
when  some  he  has.     And  wood  in  tin 
box  for  stove." 

"Do  you  mean  to  say  that  the  union 
won't  let  him  work  because  he  doesn't 
belong  to  it,  and  that  he  cannot  belong 
to  it  because  he  has  not  the  money  to 
join?" 

Through  much  questioning  this  was 
resolved. 

"Well,  this  is  a  fine  state  of  affairs 
for  you  to  investigate,  Mr.  Prosecutor!" 
said  the  judge  to  that  official,  as  if, 
somehow,  he  was  to  blame  for  it. 
"What  is  his  trade?"  the  judge  re 
sumed,  in  his  questioning  of  the  chil 
dren. 

"Gondolier,"    answered    Felice. 

"Ah,  well,  I  suppose  there  is  no  such 


FELICE  107 

union  here  —  since  there  is  no  such 
calling  in  America?" 

"They  make  him  join  bricklayers' 
union,"  explained  the  child. 

:'Well  upon  my  soul,"  cried  the 
judge,  "do  you  hear  that  Mr.  District 
Attorney?" 

And,  further,  Felice  explained: 

"A  man  is  come  at  him  in  Napoli, 
which  stand  in  Italy,  and  is  tell  him 
that  it  is  the  land  of  the  brave  and  the 
home  of  the  free,  where  there  is  not  in 
justice,  and  where  all  are  equal,  and 
where  one  get  rich  in  one  year  and  re 
turn  to  Italy  to  sleep  in  the  sun,  by 
the  fountains  of  Napoli,  and  if  he  join 
the  bricklayers'  union  they  will  take 
care  of  him.  The  man  has  tickets  for 
a  steamship.  Sometimes  we  are  hun 
gry  even  there.  But  he  tell  that  here 
no  one  is  ever  hungry.  Sometime, 
there,  we  have  not  the  clothe.  But  not 
here  -  -  where  is  no  want.  So  we 
come." 


XVIII 

MUST   RYAN    EAT    HIS    HAT? 

THE  district  attorney  had  slumped 
hopelessly  into  the  bottom  of  his  chair, 
when  this  judge,  whom  he  despised,  in 
one  of  those  moods  which  he  detested, 
began  to  investigate  the  problems  of 
sociology,  which  bored  him.  But  he 
had  long  since  become  impatient.  Now 
he  had  sat  up  and  was  playing  ner 
vously  with  the  indictment  against 
Piccioli. 

"  Will  the  court  permit  me  to  inquire 
what  all  this  has  to  do  writh  the  larceny 
of  two  loaves  of  bread  from  one 
Nardi?" 

"  A  great  deal,"  said  the  judge.  "  We 
permit  the  agents  of  these  steamship 
companies  to  make  false  representa 
tions  for  the  little  gain  it  is  to  them,  and 
here  we  have  the  result.  It  is  our  own 

108 


FELICE  109 

doing  —  each  of  us.  We  are  morally 
bound  by  it!" 

"This,  if  the  court  please,"  sneered 
the  officer  of  the  law,  "  is  not  a  court  of 
morals,  but  of  law." 

"Tell  it  not  in  Gath,"  laughed  the 
judge.  "Law  is  morality.  Excuse 
me,  I  should  have  said  that  it  ought  to 
be!" 

"If  there  were  time  for  disquisition," 
contested  the  prosecutor,  grandly,  "I 
would  be  delighted  to  show  how  little 
morals  have  to  do  with  the  administra 
tion  of  the  law,  however  much  they 
may  have  to  do  with  its  construction, 
sir.  But  there  are  twenty-five  cases  on 
to-day's  list,  and  this  is  but  the  tenth, 
and  it  is  nearly  three  o'clock  --  the  hour 
for  adjournment,  and  I  happen  to 
know  that  your  honor  has  a  reception 
to  attend  this  evening  at  the  Sinners 
Club.  It  is  for  the  court  to  decide 
whether  or  not  we  are  using  our  time 
wisely." 

To  the  good  magistrate,  full  of  gloom 
and  perspiration,  it  had  long  since  be- 


110  FELICE 

come  apparent  that  the  judge  would 
lose  him  his  case.  He  knew  that  cases 
are  won  by  accommodation  of  circum 
stances  to  men.  The  jury  was  getting 
tired  and  sullen.  The  district  attorney 
would,  now,  have  striven  for  the  con 
viction  of  an  angel  —  so  vindictive  had 
the  smiling  judge  made  him.  He  knew 
that  no  one  man  was  now  equal  to  the 
calming  of  the  troubled  waters.  To 
Felice  he  said,  as  he  leaned  heavily 
upon  the  railing  of  the  witness-stand : 

"It's  going  to  be  a  close  shave,  and 
I  hate  to  do  it!" 

He  affectionately  polished  the  nap  of 
his  hat. 

Can  you  fancy  how  deep  was  the 
children's  despair  when  even  the  good 
magistrate  lost  hope  ? 

But,  at  that  very  moment,  there  was 
a  stir  in  the  corridor,  then  at  the  door, 
then  in  the  court-room,  all  eyes  turning 
one  way.  They  might  have  known 
that  it  was  Martinos.  For  it  was  in 
this  way  that  he  always  came.  But, 
they  did  not  know  until  his  arms  were 


FELICE  111 

about  them  and  his  whispers  in  their 
ears. 

"  Courage  —  the  vast  courage,  my 
children  -  -  Felice  —  Litle  -  -  Issa  - 
Ricciotto — each  name  separate  —  I  am 
here  —  Martinos  and  God!  No  more 
fear.  Conquer,  we  shall,  or  die,  alike 
those  Napoleon  say.  What  ?  —  do  we 
not  always  conquer?  Me  and  God! 
Aha,  ha,  ha!  Liberty  or  death!" 

It  took  the  district  attorney  some 
time  to  recover  from  the  amazement 
which  the  audacious  possessing  of  the 
court  by  the  barber  had  occasioned. 
Then  he  cried  sternly  for  order,  and 
all  the  officers  did  the  same,  while  the 
two  laid  hold  of  Martinos  and  led  him 
before  the  bar  of  the  court  and  the 
smiling  judge. 

But,  Martinos  did  not  wait  to  be 
charged,  like  a  malefactor,  with  dis 
order  in  the  court,  for  which  fine  and 
imprisonment  might  be  the  corollary. 
He  outstripped  the  officers  and,  step 
ping  into  the  enchanted  place  before 
the  bar,  bowed  like  a  prince  and  said: 


112  FELICE 

"  To  the  eccellenza  —  the  honorable 
great  judge  —  may  I  speak?" 

"Well?"  nodded  the  judge. 

"But  -  "  cried  the  prosecutor,  "who 
is  this  person?" 

"An  American  citizen,  desiring  to 
advocate  for  the  prisoner,"  said  Mar- 
tinos  with  a  sweep  of  a  hand  out  then 
back  to  his  chest. 

"Oh,  you  are  an  advocate!" 

Martinos  turned  to  the  judge. 

"The  eccellenza  may  be  assure  that 
I  vote  all-a-right.  I  have  the  pu-11  in 
the  Tenth  Ward." 

The  district  attorney  grew  red  in  the 
face,  the  judge  laughed  happily. 

"What's  this?  Make  a  note  of  it," 
he  directed  his  assistant.  "Get  the 
man's  name  and  address  —  the  wit 
nesses.  Prepare  an  information." 

The  judge  grinned. 

"And,  the  man  we  acquitted  just 
now  ?  Was  not  the  same  information 
conveyed  —  in  perhaps  more  guarded 
terms?  Don't  you  both  live  in  the 
Tenth  Ward?" 


FELICE  113 

Martinos  was  puzzled. 

"Sir,"  he  asked  of  the  prosecutor, 
"have  I,  then,  not  the  pu-ull?" 

"No!"  thundered  the  district  attor 
ney. 

"That  is  most  sad,"  mused  Martinos. 
"  Some  one  is  liar.  Sir  -  '  he  again 
addressed  the  more  complaisant  court, 

"seems  like  'tis  mistake.  Dave 
Bicker  he  is  boss  of  the  Tenth  Ward. 
He  tell  me  if  I  vote  right  I  have  the 
pu-11  at  the  palace  where  the  streets 
cross.  Any  leetle  theeng  I  want  can  I 
have.  Thereupon  I  vote  all-right.  And 
I  make  that  all  people  in  the  Tenth 
Ward  which  come  from  Italy  vote  all- 
right.  Me  and  my  friends  —  and  I 
have  much  friends.  What?  Is  it  all 
lie?  Is  it  not  that  if  I  vote  for  this 
prosecutore,  here  sitting,  I  and  my  much 
friend,  I  shall  not  have  the  little  pu-11  ? 
And  is  it  not  a  little  pu-ull  that  on- 
chain  this  Piccioli,  sir  judge?" 

By  this  time  the  pink  judge  was  in 
convulsions. 

"Here  is  one  of  your  vassals,  Mr. 


114  FELICE 

Prosecutor.  What  you  would  have 
done  without  the  Tenth  I  do  not  know. 
Perhaps  been  left  at  home.  Remem 
ber  that  ingratitude  is  sharper  than  a 
serpent's  tooth." 

Martinos  saw  the  brow  of  the  officer 
of  the  law  darken.  He  undertook  to 
pour  oil  on  the  troubled  waters. 

"But,  parhap  it  is  lie  and  you  do  not 
know  those  Dave  Bicker.  Parhap  he 
has,  what  is  called  in  this  land,  done 
me?" 

"Do  you  know  Mr.  David  Bicker?" 
asked  the  judge  of  the  district  attor 
ney. 

He  did  not  answer. 

"  Give  the  learned  district  attorney  the 
name  of  the  gentleman  who  voted  for 
him  under  the  misapprehension  that  he 
had  a  pull,  and  was  dividing  it  with 
you,  so  that  he  may  indict  him." 

;'That  is  precisely  what  I  will  do," 
said  the  official  squaring  his  shoulders. 
"What  is  his  full  name?" 

"Signore  Dave  Bicker,"  said  Mar 
tinos. 


FELICE  115 

'You  mean  David,"  prompted  the 
officer,  with  a  pad  in  his  hand. 

Martinos  shook  his  head. 

"How  can  I  indict  a  man  under  the 
name  of  Dave!" 

"II  nome  —  is  Dave,"  said  Marti 
nos  with  decision.  "Have  I  not  heard 
it  the  thousand  time  ?  Have  I  not 
drink  and  eat  with  him  under  those 
name  ?  What  ?  Do  not  all  call  him  Dave 
and  none  call  him  Da-vid?  Do  I  not 
know?" 

"Precisely,"  nodded  the  judge. 

"I  will  not  be  made  ridiculous,  nor 
will  I  risk  a  certain  mistrial,  by  the  use 
of  a  wrong  name,"  said  the  prosecutor, 
tossing  the  pad  aside.  "And  now,  if 
your  honor  pleases,  I  wish  to  proceed 
with  the  case  of  the  Commonwealth 
against  Piccioli.  No  one  else  seems  to 
wish  it." 

"Go  on,"  smiled  the  judge. 

''  What  is  your  name  and  address,  so 
that  you  may  go  on  record  as  counsel, 
for  the  prisoner,"  asked  the  district 
attorney  of  Martinos. 


116  FELICE 

"Martinos,  barbier,"  answered  the 
advocate  of  Piccioli,  haughtily. 

For  a  moment  the  district  attorney 
was  on  his  back  —  metaphorically. 
Then,  with  recovered  breath,  he  said: 

"A  barber!  If  the  court  please,  I 
supposed  that  the  man  was  an  advo 
cate  unused  to  our  practise,  and,  there 
fore,  I  excused  a  bit  of  lack  of  decorum. 
I  refuse  to  have  further  dealings  with  a 
barber,  and  shall  proceed  with  the  case 
as  if  no  counsel  had  appeared  for  the 
prisoner." 

"  At  your  peril,  Mr.  Prosecutor.  That 
is  a  matter  for  me!  That  person  is 
counsel  whom  a  suitor  chooses.  If  he 
is  unwise  enough  to  choose  one  un 
skilled  in  the  law  and  skilled  in  the 
razor,  so  much  the  worse  for  him  and 
'so  much  the  better  for  you.  You  will 
be  certain  of  an  easy  victory.  Here 
all  are  equal.  You,  yourself,  have 
often  said  so.  So  have  I.  We  cannot 
now  recant  in  the  heat  of  a  trial.  If  this 
barber  is  the  prisoner's  counsel  he 
shall  represent  him  and  the  case  shall 


FELICE  117 

go  on.     The  constitution,  happily,  does 
not  require  one  to  be  learned  in  the  law 
to  sustain  this  relation.     Proceed.     It 
is  /  who  am  mad  now  for  the  fray!" 
The  judge  smiled. 


XIX 

THE  TRUTH THE  WHOLE  TRUTH  - 

AND  NOTHING  BUT  THE  TRUTH 

THEN  the  little  Felice  was  made  to 
stand  up  and  be  sworn  —  the  smiling 
judge  saying: 

"Do  as  you  are  told,  Felice,  and  all 
will  be  as  well  as  it  can  be." 

So,  taking  a  very  unclean  copy  of 
the  Bible  in  her  right  hand,  the  little 
girl  was  asked: 

;'You  do  swear  that  the  evidence 
you  shall  give  in  the  case  now  trying, 
shall  be  the  truth,  the  whole  truth,  and 
nothing  but  the  truth,  so  help  you 
God!" 

To  which  she  was  made  to  answer 
Yes,  and  then  to  kiss  the  unclean  book 
with  her  pretty  child-lips. 

"Now,"  said  the  judge,  cheerily, 
"answer  any  questions  the  district  at 
torney  may  ask  you,  and  if  he  asks 

118 


FELICE  119 

you  any  you  should  not  answer,  I  will 
stop  him." 

"Si,  eccellenza,"  said  the  trembling 
child,  looking  not  at  the  judge  for  help, 
however,  but  at  the  great  barber. 

"Did  your  father  take  these  two 
loaves  of  bread  from  the  shop  of  Pietro 
Nardi,  without  paying  for  them?'* 
asked  the  district  attorney,  flourishing 
a  loaf  in  each  hand,  before  the  hungry 
child. 

'Yes,"  answered  Felice,  and  the  case 
seemed  ended. 

"But,  child,"  said  the  barber,  "that 
do  not  you  know.  Only  you  hear,  you 
do  not  see." 

"  Si,"  said  Felice. 

"Hearsay,"  smiled  the  judge,  "ob 
jection  sustained.  Answer  stricken 
out." 

"When  your  father  left  you  it  was 
for  the  purpose  of  getting  bread,  wasn't 
it?"  tried  the  district  attorney  again. 

'Yes,"  answered  the  child. 

"But,  not  to  steal  of  it!"  said  the 
barber. 


120  FELICE 

"  No,  "  said  Felice. 

"Sustained,"  ruled  the  court,  gaily. 
"Answer  stricken  out." 

"But  he  had  no  silver?  You  said 
so." 

"No,"  answered  the  bewildered  Fe 
lice,  "he  had  no  silver.  I  said  so." 

14  Then,"  cried  the  prosecutor,  to  the 
court,  "I  submit  that  he  must  have 
meant  to  steal!" 

"Perdono,"  bowed  Martinos,  in  per 
fect  self-possession,  "eccellenza.  The 
honorable  prosecutore  might  mean  to 
steal  whenever  he  no  money  has  —  but 
not  Piccioli.  What  ?  Have  he  the  right 
in  this  land  of  the  free  to  thing  for 
another  —  wrhose  name  is  Piccioli  ?  No! 
If  he  have  no  silver  got  -  -  Virgin !  - 
he  dunno  there  is  people  of  Italy  who 
give !  Thus  is  Nardi  the  baker  —  II 
panate  thieve!" 

"Precisely,"     laughed     the     court. 

'That  the  prisoner  had  no  money  is 

not  evidence  of  his  intention  to  steal." 

"What  did  the  stolen  loaves  cost?" 
asked  the  district  attorney. 


FELICE 


But  the  court  stopped  him  with  a 
hand.  And  Martinos  laughed  at  him. 

"The  honorable  —  the  eccellenza  - 
if    they    cost    they   were    not,     then, 
stole." 

The  judge  explained  to  the  barber 
that  that  was  a  trick  to  catch  unwary 
witnesses  which  was  unworthy  of  the 
learned  district  attorney. 

"It's  a  matter  of  twenty  or  thirty 
cents!"  said  the  district  attorney  with 
disgust. 

"  Virgin!"  cried  a  voice  from  the  rear 
of  the  room,  "four  centi  —  four  centi!" 
and  Martinos  signaled  happily  to 
Nardi. 

The  benchers  laughed,  and  there  was 
so  much  uproar  in  the  court  that  the 
officers  called  out  for  silence. 

"Clear  those  children  out  of  the 
witness-box,"  commanded  the  district 
attorney.  "I'll  show  you!" 

This  was  done,  the  ruddy  judge 
taking  the  small  hand  of  Felice  in  his 
and  saying: 

"Don't  be  afraid." 


122  FELICE 

Officer  Gordon,  who  made  the  arrest 
of  Piccioli,  took  the  stand. 

He  testified  that  he  had  seen  a  man 
who  looked  like  him  in  the  dock  steal 
up  to  the  door  of  Nardi's  bakery,  open 
it  cautiously,  and,  taking  two  loaves, 
rush  out. 

"Did  he  pay  for  them?"  asked  the 
prosecutor. 

"No,"  answered  the  witness. 

"Would  you  have  seen  him  do  so  if 
he  had?" 

"Certainly." 

"Well,"  sighed  the  judge,  gravely, 
"I  fear  you  have  at  last,  by  accident, 
proved  the  theft."  Then,  to  the  bar 
ber:  "Mr.  Barber,  we  are  now  in  deep 
water.  What  shall  we  do?" 

"Nardi!"  shouted  the  barber,  bellig 
erently. 

"Now,  Nardi,  you  that  are  fat  and 
perspire,  tell  the  truth,"  said  the  barber, 
in  his  old  savagery,  "to  the  eccellenza, 
the  judge,  how  Piccioli  did  not  steal, 
hah  ?  Not  like  I  told  you  before  - 
but  like  you  said." 


FELICE  123 

"Va,  non,"  said  the  baker,  "I  give 
it  to  him!" 

"How  could  you  give  it  to  him,"  in 
quired  the  district  attorney,  with  ser 
pentine  politeness,  "when  you  were 
not  technically  present  —  when,  as  has 
been  testified,  he  rushed  in  and  took 
the  loaves  and  then  ran  out?  Where 
were  you?" 

"I  turn  my  back,"  said  Nardi.  "I 
see  him  coming  to  steal  and  turn  my 
back!" 

"Oh,  you  saw  him  coming  to  steal! 
That  will  do." 

"Signore,"  asked  Martinos,  softly, 
suggesting  what  he  wished,  "you  corrob 
orate  the  gift  now  ?" 

"What?"  asked  Nardi. 

'You  give  him  the  bread  now?" 

"Virgin!  Yes  and  ten  more!  I  do 
not  know  he  starve!  I  do  not  know 
his  little  children  starve!  If  any  one 
starve  let  him  steal  of  Nardi  the  fat 
baker!"  He  addressed  every  person 
in  the  room. 

The  prosecutor  laughed. 


124  FELICE 

But  it  was  one  thing  to  gibe  and 
quite  another  to  vanquish  Martinos. 

"Perdono!"  he  cried,  fronting  the 
prosecutor,  with  his  head  in  air  and  a 
hand  on  one  hip.  "Here  is  man  in 
cage  who  have  —  parhap  —  steal  two 
loaf --and  those  not  perfected,  since 
he  do  not  eat,  and  what  is  one  steal 
for  if  one  do  not  eat?  —  yet,  here  is 
'nother  steal  two,  four,  six,  I  - 

Martinos  pounded  his  chest  sav 
agely. 

- 1  with  five  steals  upon  my  soul, 
the  Virgin  be  thanked  and  adored  - 
for   same   persons  —  account   of   same 
starve  —  and  not  give  unto  me  —  not 
even  now  corroborate  - 

He  fiercely  waved  the  irrepressible 
Nardi  to  his  seat. 

- 1  confess,  here  in  this  honorable 
courting  place  —  that  I  am  thief  of  five 
loave — yet  am  free!  Explain  me 
those,  Signore  Prosecutore!  Explain 
me  those!  "  cried  the  barber  in  a  mad 
triumph,  as  he  saw  that  he  had  again 
winded  the  officer  of  the  law. 


FELICE  125 

"You  were  not  seen  to  steal,"  at  last 
answered  the  district  attorney. 

"All  Italy  Minora  see  me  steal!" 
shouted  the  now  aroused  barber.  "  Nay, 
I  shout  it  out!  I  cry  on  the  housetops 
and  in  the  street,  Here  am  I,  Martinos, 
who  steal  five  loave  of  the  righteous 
Nardi.  Sausages  from  the  German 
Fritzen.  Milk-ball  from  beast.  I  am 
larcener!  I  am  grand  dam'  rascale! 
Stealer!  Come  and  take  me  --ye  peo 
ple --ye  polizziotto!" 

Then  he  broke  down  and  laughed 
in  the  very  face  of  the  cruel  officer  of 
the  law. 

"If  any  one  dare!"  And  no  one 
dare! 

"If  any  one  will  make  an  informa 
tion  before  me,  I  will  see  that  you  are 
arrested  and  tried  as  this  Piccioli  is 
being  tried  —  that  is,  as  I  alone  seem 
to  be  trying  to  try  him.  The  law 
cannot  move  unless  it  is  set  in  motion 
by  the  complaint  of  a  citizen  who  has 
seen  or  been  injured  in  his  public 
capacity  by  a  crime." 


126  FELICE 

The  district  attorney  stooped  to  be 
didactic! 

"Oh,  what  a  fearsome  law  is  that 
which  moves  not  in  the  land  of  the  free 
until  it  is  push!"  laughed  the  barber. 
"Hah!  I  see!  To  commit  the  larceny 
with  completeness,  one  must  have  wit 
ness  with.  One  must  hasten  to  the 
lord  prosecutore  with  notification,  one 
must  paste  hand  williams,  one  must 
make  outcry  that  he  is  larcener  by 
the  gong  and  bell  and  crier!  Nay  the 
advertize !  Virgin ! ' ' 

Now  the  barber  forgot  the  prosecutor 
in  a  frenzy  of  patriotism,  addressed  to 
the  pleased  and  smiling  and  interested 
pink  court. 

"Signore  —  eccellenza  --  I  am  born 
in  Italia  and  am  proud  —  dam'  proud 
thereof.  Yit,  more  proud  am  I  that  I 
live  in  the  land  of  the  brave  and  the 
home  of  the  free.  What  ?  Are  we 
not  brother  ?  Am  I  not  American  citi 
zen  ?  Have  I  not  swear  to  uphold  the 
government  till  I  die?  Did  not  my 
beloved  countryman,  Amerigo  Vespucci 


FELICE  127 

discover  you,  and  all  Americans,  eccel- 
lenza  ?  Oh,  yes !  There  was  a  liar  name 
Christoforo  Columbo!  Poof!  You  tell 
him  he  is  liar  when  you  name  your 
country  —  on  the  streets,  on  the  sign 
boards  —  everwhere  where  it  is  name 
except  the  map!  America!" 

Some  one  in  the  rear  said  hurrah 
and  as  the  officers  started  after  him, 
Martinos  bowed  his  thanks  with  a  hand 
on  his  heart. 

"  Signore,  judge,  I  have  study,"  Mar 
tinos  went  on,  "Those  declaration  of 
Signore  Washington  so  that  I  can  speak 
every  word  of  it,  sweet  eccellenza!" 

"I'll  bet  a  dollar  that  the  learned 
district  attorney  can't,"  laughed  the 
judge. 

"Can  your  honor?"  sneered  the 
prosecutor. 

"No,"  laughed  the  judge. 

"Then,"  bowed  Martinos,  to  both 
of  them,  "it  is  my  most  grent  pleasure 
to  instruck  the  court  and  the  prosecu- 
tore:  The  liberty  of  speak  free  shall 
never  be  obstruck  with  bridge.  Nor 


128  FELICE 

shall  any  lady  or  gentleman  be  prevent 
from  speak  his  mind,  per  himself  or 
another,  signore,  and  all  citizens  shall 
live  by  common  sense.  Yet,  here  is 
man  imprison  for  four  centi !  Yet  here 
is  man  is  steal  to  the  extent  of  four 
centi  that  this  children  may  not  die 
and  you  chain  him  in  the  place  of 
beasts !  Is  the  law  a  fool  ?  And  why 
cannot  baker  give  it  now,  after  it  is  stole 
from,  if  one  can  marry  the  lady  after 
the  child  is  born  and  be  the  father?" 

The  little  pink  judge  stuffed  his 
handkerchief  suddenly  into  his  mouth, 
then  said  judicially: 

"Mr.  Martinos  —  I  think  you  said 
that  is  your  name  ?  —  it  is  for  the 
learned  district  attorney  to  answer  you. 
I  cannot.  But,  in  the  meantime,  I  will 
gladden  his  heart  by  asking  you  to  now 
proceed  with  this  case  in  the  orderly 
fashion  of  the  law.  We  have  been  ex 
tremely  disorderly,  it  is  true,  but  the 
court  is  of  the  opinion  that  it  has  been 
good  for  us.  The  clerk  will  read  the 
indictment.'1 


FELICE  129 

To  the  reading  of  this  momentous 
document  Martinos  listened  with  great 
patience  —  for  him.  Then,  when  it 
had  been  read  publicly,  he  asked 
whether  he  might  inspect  it. 

"That  is  your  privilege,"  said  the 
court,  "and,  further,  if  you  find,  in  it, 
anything  which  is  wrong,  you  must  call 
the  attention  of  the  court  to  it." 

In  his  reading  Martinos  soon  sniffed 
a  contention: 

"Signore,"  he  said,  "here  is  it  said 
'Of  the  value  of  twenty  cent!'  Hah! 
Know  you  not  that  there  is  a  difference 
between  value  and  price  ?  Signore,  I 
have  bought  a  pants  of  the  value  of  one 
centi  and  have  paid  three  doll'  for! 
What?  And  these  loave!  Have  you 
not  hear  my  friend  Nardi  say  that  the 
price  is  but  four  centi?  Va!  What 
then  is  the  value  ?  More  than  the 
price  ?  Yet,  here  are  they  charged  at 
twenty  centi!" 

"If  the  court  please,"  cried  the  dis 
gusted  prosecutor,  "it  is  altogether  but 
a  few  pennies!" 


130  FELICE 

This  woke  the  barber's  wrath.  He 
thundered  so  that  even  the  prosecutor 
looked  uncomfortable. 

"But  a  few  centi,  signore  judge!  It 
is  five  time  what  the  price  is  —  and 
know  what  the  value !  Suppose,  sir  - 
signore  —  suppose  millionaire  was 
caged  for  embez-zle-ming  of  his  bank 
ing  place  here  charge  with  five  time! 
Signore,  would  it  stand?" 

"It  would  not,"  said  the  judge. 
"Mr.  Prosecutor,  you  draw  your  in 
dictments  entirely  too  loosely  -  '  and 
he  slowly  closed  an  eye  at  Ryan, 
who,  hopeful  once  more,  had  sneaked 
up  to  the  bar.  "I  fear  that  is  a  fatal 
defect." 

The  district  attorney  would  have 
opened  the  vials  of  his  wrath  upon  the 
barber,  here,  had  not  the  barber,  at 
that  moment,  opened  more  and  greater 
vials  upon  him. 

"Here,"  he  cried,  beating  down  all 
opposition,  striking  the  indictment  in 
one  hand  with  the  fist  of  the  other, 
"is  name  I  do  not  know!  It  is  not 


FELICE  131 

this  man  in  the  chain,  it  is  no  one  I 
know!" 

He  flung  the  indictment  into  the  dis 
trict  attorney's  face  and  stood  with 
superb,  concaved  back. 

"  Why  isn't  it  ?"  demanded  the  officer 
of  the  law,  now  really  quelled,  and 
looking  again  over  his  work. 

"It  is  spell  with  one  c,"  said  the 
barber  with  dramatic  finality. 

The  district  attorney  laughed. 

"In  all  the  world,"  went  on  the 
barber,  "it  is  spell  with  two  c's.  I  do 
not  know  this  name.  This  man  is  not 
before  the  honorable  court.  He  is  the 
wrong  man.  He  must  be  set  free  ac 
cording  to  that  declaration  of  Signore 
Washington!" 

The  pink  judge  nodded. 

"But  —  this  is  monstrous,"  blustered 
the  district  attorney,  with  a  very  red 
face.  "One  letter!" 

"It  is  the  law,"  smiled  the  judge. 
"And  you,  yourself,  said,  a  little  while 
ago,  that  you  knew  nothing  but  the 
law  --no  moralities  —  nothing  but  the 


132  FELICE 

strict  construction  of  the  law.  Other 
things  were  for  the  pardon  board. 
Picioli  is  manifestly  not  Piccioli." 

"And,  signore,  judge,"  added  Marti- 
nos,  not,  now,  entirely  without  appre 
ciation  of  the  judge's  attitude,  "but 
this  small  while  ago  is  it  not  that  the 
lord  prosecutore  would  not  do  legal 
things  unto  those  Dave  Bicker,  which 
was  a  friend  in  need,  on  account  that 
he  do  not  have  the  right  name  ?  Account 
Dave  was  not  David?" 

"Precisely,"  agreed  the  judge.  What 
is  sauce  for  Bicker,  is  sauce  for  Piccioli 
—  with  one  c." 

"Take  the  witness-stand,"  thundered 
the  prosecutor. 

Martinos  did  this  with  all  his  grace. 

"Now  then,  you  swrear  that  this  name 
is  wrongly  spelled." 

"By  the  Virgin,  I  do,"  said  Martinos. 

"Do  you  know  this  man?" 

"No.     I  never  saw  him  before." 

"Then  how  do  you  know  that  the 
name  is  wrong?" 

"There  is  no  such  name,  therefore 


FELICE  133 

no  man  can  have  it,  therefore,  —  it  is 
not." 

"Then  your  only  reason  for  thinking 
it  wrong  is  literary  and  not  fact?" 

"That  I  do  not  know,"  admitted 
Martinos. 

"Ah,  I  thought  so!" 

"  I  think,"  said  the  judge, "  that  he  re 
fers  to  your  language  and  not  the  fact." 

"Yes,"  agreed  Martinos,  solemnly. 
"Outside  of  dictionary  such  language 
have  I  never  heard." 

"Nor  I,"  laughed  the  judge. 

"If  your  name  were  spelled  with  two 
n's  it  would  still  be  your  name,  wouldn't 
it?" 

"No,  signore  —  and  --  permit  me," 
asked  Martinos  with  a  bow.  "What 
is  your  name,  signore?" 

"Murray,"  said  the  officer. 

"Again.     How  many  r's?" 

"Two." 

"  Yet  again.  And  with  one  —  would 
that  be  your  name?" 

"I  am  not  on  trial,"  snapped  the 
prosecutor. 


134  FELICE 

"Am  I?"  asked  Martinos. 

"Oh,  answer  his  question,"  urged 
the  judge.  "He  answered  yours." 

The  district  attorney  sulked  in  the 
bottom  of  his  chair. 

"I  have  proved,  aliunde,  that  this  is 
the  man  who  stole  the  bread,  no  matter 
what  his  name." 

"But,  also,"  said  the  judge,  "they 
have  proved  that  this  is  another  man 
than  the  one  indicted.  It  is  for  you  to 
prove  that  a  man  whom  you  have  indi 
cted  as  Picioli,  is  the  man  whose  name 
is  Piccioli,  then  you  will  be  right." 

"How  can  I  disprove  my  own  indict 
ment  ?  It  is  the  very  way  to  destroy 
it  and  free  the  prisoner.  I  will  not  do 
it!"  growled  the  prosecutor. 

"It  is  a  hard  case  for  you,"  sympa 
thized  the  judge.  ;'You  know  the 
name  and  the  man  and  the  crime  go 
together." 

"If  the  name  is  right,"  added  Mar 
tinos,  "it  is  the  wrong  man.  And  if 
the  man  is  right  it  is  the  wrong  name. 
What  is  the  answer,  signore?" 


FELICE  135 

"I  will  amend  the  indictment  — 

"Leave  refused,"  interposed  the 
judge.  "There  has  been  no  notice  to 
counsel  for  the  other  side." 

"Then  I  will  ask  leave  to  quash  this 
indictment  - 

"Leave  granted,"  said  the  court. 

"And,"  concluded  the  prosecutor, 
with  his  teeth  savagely  set,  "at  once 
arrest  him  upon  another  informa 
tion!" 

"Who  will  make  that  information?" 
laughed  the  barber. 

"Officer  Gordon!"  said  the  prosecu 
tor,  in  triumph. 

"In  the  meantime,"  ordered  the 
judge,  "the  prisoner  is  disch— 

"  I  will  lodge  a  detainer  at  the  prison," 
interrupted  the  prosecutor. 

"Then  back  to  the  prison  with  him," 
ordered  the  laughing  judge. 

But,  to  Ryan,  suddenly  stricken  hope 
less,  he  said: 

"Ryan,  if  you  can  get  to  the  prison 
before  the  detainer -- here  is  a  dis 
charge,"  whispered  the  judge,  handing 


136  FELICE 

a  paper  he  had  quietly  prepared  in 
advance. 

The  two  clasped  hands,  while  the 
district  attorney  was  hurrying  the  clerk 
at  making  out  his  detainer. 

"It  will  take  at  least  ten  minutes  till 
that  is  ready,"  said  the  judge,  "and  if 
you  have  ten  minutes  start— 

"I  don't  eat  me  hat,"  laughed  Ryan. 

"Prisoner  remanded,"  ordered  the 
judge. 


XX 

RYAN   WON'T   EAT    HIS    HAT 

EVERYTHING  seemed  to  have  col 
lapsed,  and  no  one  knew  exactly  where 
the  case  stood.  All  save  the  pink 
judge  and  the  good  magistrate.  They 
led  Piccioli  out  and  into  the  yellow 
prison  van,  and  Ryan  hurried  the  chil 
dren  out  and  into  a  carriage  which 
stood  near,  shouting  to  the  driver  of 
the  van: 

"I  kin  beat  you  there  for  a  five!" 

'You  kin,  kin  you?" 

Each  lashed  up  his  horses,  and  the 
good  magistrate  laughed  and  hugged 
the  children,  all  in  a  bunch,  and  said: 

"Say,  do  ye  see  it?" 

It  was  his  shiny  hat. 

"Well,    I    won't    have    to    eat    it - 
thank  the  Vargin!" 

He  had  told  Martinos,  who  anxiously 
followed  to  the  carriage,  to  go  about 

137 


138  FELICE 

his  business  —  which  he  seemed  to  un 
derstand  though  the  children  did  not  - 
and  about  which  Martinos  went  obe 
diently. 

"I  don't  want  too  much  help  in  this. 
I'm  going  to  reverse  the  district  attor 
ney,  now,  and  defeat  him  next  election. 
And  I  want  the  credit  of  it.  We'll  let 
the  van  beat  us  by  a  minute." 


XXI 

THERE    IS    A    LANGUAGE    WHICH    NEEDS 
NEITHER   WRITING    NOR    SPEAKING 

WELL,  they  were  as  I  said,  presently 
huddled  into  another  carriage  —  only 
fancy !  two  carriages  in  this  story  - 
with  the  judge  and  the  children  and 
the  cat  and  all  the  things  which  had 
been  given  them  on  their  progress  to 
the  palace  of  justice,  and  for  a  long  time 
they  drove  and  chattered,  and  even 
laughed.  For  this  great  judge,  who 
might  snap  shut  the  doors  of  the  prison 
upon  one  as  easily  as  one  could  wink, 
whom,  indeed,  the  babies  supposed 
could  condemn  one  to  death,  was  the 
very  jolliest  of  men  now --quite  as 
jolly  as  their  father  when  he  had  work. 

It  seemed  to  matter  very  little  to  him 
that  since  the  father  had  been  taken 
away  the  little  children  had  suffered 
somewhat  in  the  way  of  cleanliness,  nor 

139 


140  FELICE 

that  their  clothes  were  old  and  worn. 
Perhaps  they  did  create  pity.  On  the 
other  hand,  he  seemed  to  love  their 
great  pathetic  eyes,  and  their  hungry 
foreign  faces  —  though  they  could  not 
exchange  a  word.  But,  thank  God, 
there  is  a  language  which  needs  no 
writing  or  speaking,  and  this  they  all 
spoke  to  their  heart's  content  —  on  the 
way  to  the  prison. 

For,  at  last,  the  tremendous  frown 
ing  gates  of  the  prison  were  before  them. 
And  they  would  have  been  dreadfully 
frightened  but  for  the  magistrate's 
smiles.  But  they  knew,  in  that  lan 
guage  I  have  mentioned  above,  that 
men  do  not  smile  that  way  when  they 
are  taking  little  children  into  peril. 

"Bill,"  said  the  magistrate  to  the 
warden,  as  he  handed  him  the  paper, 
"here  is  a  discharge  for  Piccioli,  who 
was  sent  up  yesterday.  But  I  want  it 
to  be  handed  to  him  by  these  children. 
They  are  his.  He  did  not  steal  the 
bread.  The  prosecutor  swore  so.  It 
was  a  present!  We're  in  a  hurry  —  If 


FELICE  141 

Murray's  detainer  gets  here  before  we 
get  away  I'll  have  to  eat  my  hat.  See  ?" 

Well,  the  grim  warden  knew  that 
this  was  a  little  irregular.  But  he,  too, 
was  looking  down  upon  the  little  cara 
van  —  into  the  great,  wondering,  pite 
ous  foreign  eyes  —  reading  in  their 
very  muteness  all  those  things  which 
wardens  learn  so  unerringly  to  read, 
and  so  he  nodded,  and,  taking  the 
paper,  led  the  children  away. 

A  happy  thought  came  to  the  magis 
trate  just  then. 

"Bill,"  he  whispered,  "let  them  do 
it  all  themselves!  Come  away!" 

Again  the  warden  hesitated  a  mo 
ment,  and  then  went  on,  saying, 

;'  Well,  I  guess  it's  all  right,  Jim,  or 
you  wouldn't  have  come  yourself." 

"It  is  all  right,"  said  Jim.  "The 
rightest  thing  we  ever  did!  But  hurry! 
Murray  is  after  me!" 


XXII 

THE     OPEN     SESAME     IS     MOST     DIVINE 

So  it  was  that  a  repentant  sinner,  sit 
ting  with  his  shamed  face  in  his  hands, 
looked  up  with  a  great  thrill  as  a  joy 
ous  chorus  of  little  voices  spoke  his 
name. 

They  tried  to  tell  him,  presently, 
when  the  sobbing  had  given  way  to 
smiles,  that  he  was  to  come  with  them 
-  there  was  to  be  no  more  hunger,  that 
some  tremendous  power  had  set  them 
all  free.  But  he  did  not  understand. 
No  one  was  there  but  his  little  happy 
children.  No  savage  turnkey  with  his 
keys  and  arms,  no  guards,  and  the  door 
stood  open.  How  could  he  understand  ? 
Have  prison  doors  ever  before  been  so 
opened  ? 

He  rubbed  his  eyes  (for  it  might 
nevertheless  be  a  vision),  and  yielded 
presently,  though  perhaps  some  harsh 

142 


FELICE  143 

voice  would  order  him  back  to  his  cell 
and  he  would  hear  the  steel  door  clang 
between  him  and  his  loved  ones  once 
more.  But  no,  they  led  him  out  and 
on  and  on,  the  way  they  had  come. 
And,  as  they  went,  the  great  locked  and 
barred  doors,  as  they  came  to  each  in 
turn,  opened  before  them  without  so 
much  as  a  word  from  any  one,  in  a 
wray  that  was  more  wonderful  than 
any  miracle  he  had  ever  read  of,  or 
any  magic  in  the  books.  On,  on,  until 
they  stood  without  the  walls,  once  more 
in  the  beautiful  free  world!  And  the 
gates  were  behind,  the  sun  above!  Even 
there  stood  a  coachman  with  the  open 
door  of  a  carriage  in  his  hand  and  a 
smile  on  his  face.  And  the  penitent 
had  not  had  to  even  wish  for  it  all. 
Indeed,  it  had  come  though  he  doubted. 

"Who  has  done  it?  Who  has  the 
great  power?"  whispered  Piccioli.  "It 
must  be  a  king."  He  still  looked 
doubtfully  about. 

But  they  could  not  tell  him.  They 
would  never  be  able  to  tell  him.  And 


144  FELICE 

what  was  the  use?  They  had  him 
once  more  —  devouring  him  with  their 
arms  and  eyes  and  lips.  What  was  the 
use  —  to  them?  They  had  him! 

But  there  is  use  to  us.  It  is  good  to 
know  that  a  little  child  may  be  more 
powerful  than  the  greatest  prince  —  for 
liberty  —  for  humanity.  And  it  is  not 
ill  to  know  that  there  is  in  the  world  the 
things  we  have  found  in  the  hearts  of 
the  people  of  this  story.  For  there  are 
such  people  and  such  hearts  all  about 
us  every  day  —  only  we  are  busy  mak 
ing  money  or  wielding  power  and  we 
pass  them  by  —  unfortunately  for  us! 

Before  the  carriage  could  drive  off, 
the  magistrate  put  his  hand  through 
the  window,  and  said,  only  because  he 
was  a  judge,  in  thought  and  habit, 
charged  with  the  custody  of  people's 
morals  —  you  probably  know  how  that 
is: 

"Piccioli,  I  know  that  this  will  be  the 
last  time  I  shall  ever  have  occasion  to 
punish  you.  Be  brave.  A  brave  man 
under  misfortune  has  friends  always. 


FELICE  145 

See  how  the  courage  of  these  children 
has  worked  a  miracle!  God  bless  you 
and  them!" 

Of  which  Piccioli  understood  nothing 
but  the  grasp  of  the  hand  with  which  it 
ended.  And  if  you  have  been  in  prison, 
and  are  once  more  free  to  walk  in  the 
good  air,  see  the  sun,  be  above  sus 
picion,  with  your  dear  ones  so  close 
about  you  that  it  is  impossible  for  them 
to  get  closer  -  -  you  will  remember  such 
a  grasp  of  the  hand  as  the  magistrate 
gave  Piccioli. 


XXIII 

FROM    FAIRY-LAND    TO   THE   LAND    OF 
HEART'S  DESIRE 

WHEN  the  carriage,  straight  from 
fairyland  to  the  land  of  heart's  desire, 
discharged  its  load  in  Alaska  Street, 
there  was  the  feast  spread  and  ready 
to  eat,  while,  in  such  regal  array  that 
they  had  to  look  twice  before  they  were 
certain  it  was  she,  sat  Floris  at  the 
head  of  the  table.  The  royal  doll  of 
Little  Italy!  The  barber  had  schooled 
her  to  her  part.  But  she  could  main 
tain  it  only  an  instant,  when  she,  too, 
flew  upon  her  father,  with  flaming  pink 
spots  in  her  cheeks,  and  sobbed  quite 
as  she  would  have  done  had  she  not 
been  dressed  up  and  been  only  Floris. 
But,  of  course,  she  showed  him  the 
dress  with  the  spangles,  and  the  rib 
bons  at  neck  and  hair,  the  pink  petti- 

146 


FELICE  147 

coat,    and    the    white    stockings    and 
shoes  —  directly.     And  - 

'You!"  cried  Martinos,  when  his 
opportunity  came  to  get  at  Piccioli, 
and  for  no  other  reason  than  that  he 
looked  less  like  the  malefactor  he  had 
described  so  savagely  in  his  shop  than 
any  human  being  he  had  ever  seen. 
'You  are  young  —  and  handsome  - 
and  humble  —  and  distressed  —  and 
innocent!  Signore,  I  have  harm  you. 
Observe,  I  make  the  grand  amende!" 
Whereupon  he  kissed  him  on  the 
cheek. 

"Also  I  extend  to  you  the  right  hand 
of  fellowship  and  hope  you  will  be  so 
gracious  as  to  take  it." 

Well,  do  you  imagine  for  a  moment 
that  Piccioli  did  not  ? 

He  further  exhibited  a  telegram  from 
the  commissioner  of  the  World's  Fair 
which  guaranteed  Piccioli  work  the 
moment  he  should  arrive. 

"But  you  shall  not  go,  fratello  mio! 
You  shall  stay  in  our  Italia  Minora! 
We  are  brothers!" 


148  FELICE 

Think  of  that! 

However,  when  Signor  Martinos  said 
a  thing  it  was  known  to  be  as  good  as 
done. 

Then,  in  a  happy  tumult,  they  sat 
down  to  eat. 

But  they  halted  a  moment  for  the 
great  barber  to  make  a  speech  —  with 
the  tears  flowing  down  his  face. 

"My  dear,  dear  children!  Most 
sweet  signorine!"  And  then  he  sol 
emnly  bowed  his  head.  "Beautiful 
dead  mother!  I  have  harm  you 
beyond  belief.  I  have  been  beast, 
rascal,  when  Heaven  demand  that  I 
shall  be  friend  and  comforter.  I  have 
condemn  for  stealing  once.  Yet  I 
have  steal  five  time  —  and  for  the  same 
purpose.  Hence  I  am  become  five 
time  more  larcener  than  you,  which,  in 
my  pride,  I  consign  to  the  chain  for 
ever.  Have  I  made  the  grand  amende  ? 
II  grandito  amande,  signorine  ?  Is  the 
penance  of  Signor  Martinos  now  suffi 
cient  ?  Am  I  enough  humble  ?  Have 
I,  more  than  you,  break  the  peace. 


FELICE  149 

Fracture  the  domestic  tranquillity  ?  Am 
I  of  reproach  full  measure?" 

Well,  when  they  were  through  with 
him,  they  had  left  him  no  more  doubt 
of  all  this  —  even  his  own  personal 
disgrace,  since  he  would  have  it  so  — 
than  I  leave  you. 


XXIV 

THERE  IS  LARGE  BEAST  AND  LITTLE 
BEAST,  YET  NO  ONE  NEED  REMAIN 
BEAST 

MARTINOS  was  celebrated  for  over 
doing  things.  You  can  see  that  he  was. 
And  he  maintained  his  reputation  in 
this  happy  penance. 

"Sometime  one  is  mistake,"  he  said 
in  his  shop  that  afternoon  when  the 
siesta  hour  had  brought  thither  a  goodly 
company.  "Moreover,  sometimes  one 
is  beast.  Also,  there  is  great  mistake 
and  small  mistake.  Likewise  there  is 
large  beast  and  little  beast.  I  -  - 1, 
your  barber,  have  made  the  great  mis 
take,  and  am  also  large  beast.  Not 
alone  this,  signori.  I  have  led  you  in 
my  same  evil  pathway.  You  are  all 
mistake  —  all  beast.  Yet,  not  great 
mistake  —  not  large  beast.  That  is 
for  me.  Sometime  mistake  cannot  be 

150 


FELICE  151 

fix,  and  beast  got  to  stay  beast.  But 
I  have  that  happiness  to  inform  you, 
sweet  signori,  that,  through  vast  pen 
ance,  this  mistake  have  been  com 
pletely  repair,  and  that  no  one  need 
remain  beast. 

Whereupon  he  told  them  all,  saving 
himself  in  nothing  but  the  full  measure 
of  his  penitence.  He  ended  thus: 

"  Now,  to  be  beast  or  not  to  be  beast. 
I  will  perambulate  the  hat.  I  shall  not 
look.  All  us  like  beast  have  gone 
astray.  Let  him  who  has  been  beast 
return  unto  the  fold,  and  give  according 
to  how  much  mistake  he  has  been  — 
how  much  beast  —  unto  the  injured 
little  ones  —  the  insulted  father  —  the 
beautiful  dead  mother  —  else  forever 
hereafter  hold  his  peace,  and  stay  beast 
and  stay  mistake!  To  the  end  that 
to-night  shall  be  a  party  at  Signor 
Carazin  theater  of  marionettes,  and 
afterward  eating  at  the  Albergo  e  Trat 
toria  of  Signor  Riccio.  Success  to  the 
successful,  sweet  signori!" 

The  hat  was  duly   passed.     And  I 


152  FELICE 

am  ashamed  to  tell  you  how  heavy  it 
was.  Certainly  there  was  enough  for 
very  many  theater  parties  at  the  mario 
nettes  —  if  they  chose  to  spend  it  so 
foolishly. 

But,  for  this  night,  at  least,  it  was 
not  to  be  permitted.  For  Pamphilio 
Carazin  rose  in  his  place  and  said: 

"Signori,  I  have  deposit  in  the  hat. 
Nevertheless,  I  hereby  present  as  many 
seats  at  The  Adventures  of  Orlando 
Furioso,  now  in  its  sixteenth  week  of 
performance,  as  is  desire.  Further 
more,  they  shall  not  be  of  the  small 
price,  but  of  them  that  cost  fifteen 
cent!" 

And  instantly  Martinos  fell  upon  his 
neck  and  all  their  differences  were  for 
ever  healed. 

But  Christani  Riccio  was  speaking. 

"Sirs,"  he  said,  "to  the  same  cause, 
I  dedicate  a  supper  for  so  many  as  my 
trattoria  will  contain.  And  the  list  to 
eat  shall  be  without  limit  save  what  the 
house  itself  contain.  And  it  shall  be 
all  without  price.  Notwithstanding,  I 


FELICE  153 

have  also  deposit  in  the  hat  when  it 
perambulate  in  front  of  me." 

And  Ardano,  the  rich  coachman  of 
the  millionaire  Martin  Muffin,  would 
have  them  go  in  his  two  carriages  - 
the  cab  and  the  hack,  though  he  also 
had  not  slighted  the  hat.  While  the 
milk-ball  man,  and  the  jolly  baker,  each 
insisted  that  some  of  their  merchandise 
should  grace  the  feast.  Teti,  the  far- 
macien,  sold  sweatmeats  of  the  most 
delicate  flavors,  and  he  also  would  not 
be  appeased  until  Riccio  permitted  him 
to  furnish  the  sweets.  Libera  Rosa 
Rocca,  the  levatrice,  who  happened  by, 
came  in  and  said  she  should  see  that 
the  cooking  was  right,  no  matter  whether 
Riccio's  chef  liked  it  or  not. 

And  if  you  think  that  Rafaelle  the 
undertaker  had  nothing  to  lend  to  the 
feast  and  the  occasion,  you  show  your 
ignorance  of  him.  He  said  he  would 
send  a  wagon-load  of  flowers.  And 
though  all  knew  that  these  would  be 
flowers  that  had  graced  some  funeral 
before  they  came  to  the  feast  at  the 


154  FELICE 

Trattoria  e  Albergo,  yet  not  a  soul  had 
the  less  joy  in  the  offer  of  them  for 
that  reason.  For,  did  they  not  all  love 
the  dead  and  pray  masses  for  them  ? 

And  though  I  am  sure  that  you  can 
not  fancy  what  Pistolio,  of  the  Broad 
Street  cleaning  squad,  could  send,  you 
will  not  be  surprised  to  know  that  it 
was  nothing  less  than  a  carpet  he  had 
found  at  the  back  door  of  a  Broad 
Street  palace,  for  them  to  walk  from 
the  carriages  to  the  door  of  the  theater, 
and  afterward  to  the  door  of  the  Eating 
and  Sleeping  Restaurant. 

And  all  had  deposited,  nevertheless, 
in  the  perambulating  hat. 

Well,  there  were  tears  in  the  eyes  of 
the  sentimental  barber  when  he  heard 
of  all  this  munificence. 

"  Virgin ! "  he  cried .  * '  How  the  grand 
pity  enlarge  the  soul  till  it  bust  out  and 
'most  kill  one !  One-tenth  of  this  - 
one-hundredth  -  -  one-thousandth  -  -  I 
did  not  expect.  Yet,  here  is  the  ca- 
pello  I  perambulate  full  to  busting  and 
nothing  to  spend!  How  can  I  spend 


FELICE  155 

it  when  no  one  will  let?  Then,  what 
shall  be  done  with  it?  —  what,  dear, 
dear,  dear  signori?" 

Some  one  suggested  that  it  be  put  in 
the  bank.  Another,  who  knew  arith 
metic,  rapidly  calculated  that  when 
Floris  was  ready  to  be  married  she 
would  be  very,  very  rich  if  it  were  left 
to  grow.  So,  with  one  shout  of  accord, 
that  was  determined.  And  perhaps 
some  day  I  shall  tell  you  that  story! 

For  then  and  there  they  determined 
precisely  what  sort  of  festival  they 
would  make  of  that  event,  forgetting 
that  then  they  would  all  be  old,  old 
men! 

And  all  of  those  other  things  hap 
pened,  quite  as  had  been  planned  by 
the  barber  first,  and  then  by  all  of 
Little  Italy.  And  I  wish  you  to  stop 
and  recollect  that  that  does  not  occur 
often  in  this  curiously  out-of -joint  world 
of  ours. 

I  wish  I  might  tell  you  about  it.  But 
I  think  that  Floris  wore  to  the  theater 
and  supper  the  white  dress  with  the 


156  FELICE 

silver  spangle,  and  perhaps  the  pale 
pink  petticoat  with  the  blue  silk  em 
broideries,  and  the  white  shoes  and 
stockings,  and  the  hair  and  neck  rib 
bons,  and  her  ring  with  the  blue  enamel 
heart  transfixed  by  the  crimson  arrow. 


UC  SOUTHERN  REGIONAL  LIBRARY  FACILITY 


A     000073155     4 


